


Back To The Brax

by GingerGoldRose



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio), Doctor Who: Eighth Doctor Adventures - Various Authors
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Doctor Who Fusion, F/M, Second Chances
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:15:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 19
Words: 51,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27169187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerGoldRose/pseuds/GingerGoldRose
Summary: Romana had been fighting a war she can't win for over thirty years.  She had lost many friends along the way, including Irving Braxiatel and now The Doctor.  With her last stronghold surrounded, it seems certain that she is going to be killed by daleks.  So when her time-traveling friend, Rose Tyler, drags her and Leela back to The Doctor's laboratory and Romana is offered to go back in time and change the future...  She literally jumps at the chance.  Romana just hopes she is up to the challenge to both save the future and to face Braxiatel.
Relationships: Andred/Leela (Doctor Who), Eighth Doctor/Rose Tyler, Irving Braxiatel/Romana II
Comments: 108
Kudos: 30





	1. The Jump

**Author's Note:**

> Been reading a bunch of graphic novel version of Korean novels lately. I'm just throwing this on to the pile of this fun genre of Time Traveling Second Chances.   
> Art inspires art. I also got a spark to write this fic from a fanart of Romana is a blue dress with Braxiatel. The piece was, I believe, by ivqdraws on tumblr. I can't find the illustration anymore to confirm. It looks like that artist's style though.   
> Special Thanks to GroovyKat and The-Plot-Thinens for your encouragement. Enjoy folks!

It was literally the last day of Lady Romanadvoratrelundar’s horrible life, hopefully. She had spent the last thirty years trying to reclaim or rather undo the damage that her cousin, Imperiatrix, had done to her homeland of Gallifrey. So far, “Romana”, to her friends and anyone-who-did-not-wish-for-her-to-die-when-warning-her-of-live-fire, had been unsuccessful. The land was barren and her people who were alive were scattered in an amalgamation of survivors from countless slaughtered gallifreyan families. And it was all thanks to her cousin. She had adamantly ignoring the threat of the warring nation of Skaro until it was too late to do anything! 

Every day of her life since the invasion in her twenties and the subsequent fall of capital, Arcadia, were filled with losses, skirmishes with occupying Dalek soldiers, retreating and insufferable hiding. Romana was done with hiding now, desperate, but not yet suicidal. She still had people to look after all… All two of them. The first was Leela, her foreign bodyguard, who was carted into Gallifrey from Mordee as chattel for the dalek’s blood sports. That had occurred only a little after the invasion over thirty years ago. Then there was Rose, the only youth remaining in the group now. And Rose had only survived as long as she had because, not many years earlier, she had been thrown forward in time to this hellscape by an unknown entity, called the Bad Wolf. Out of place and with no real technical skills thirty years in her future, Rose was kindly partnered up with the scientific genus, Lord Theta Sigma Lungbarrow. However, Theta Sigma was known to most by his nickname: The Doctor. The Doctor and Rose working together turned out to be a mutually beneficial arrangement. Rose was a quick study and quickly became an asset to the cause and a brilliant assistant to The Doctor. The Doctor in turn assisted in trying to unravel why she was thrown forward through time with no way home. The Doctor had also provided Rose with a feeling of home despite being placed out of time until he could get her home. It was the fiercest of mutually respectful and loyal friendships Romana had ever witnessed. A true partnership in ingenuity.

Well, it turned out that The Doctor had found out how and more importantly, how to send Rose back to the past with a system he finally calibrated called “TARDIS”. Romana would only learn this though at the aforementioned last, horrible day of her life. The Daleks had found the resistance’s last stronghold and were sending all their troops in to destroy them. On that terrible day, Romana saw in her mind’s eye every person who had ever helped her along the way to try to restore Gallifrey to its original glory. She also saw how profoundly she had failed them. All of them dying for nothing, their home would never be theirs again.

“Forgive me, Brax…” Romana apologized as she futilely picked off dalek soldiers from the never-ending barrage of them. Lord Irving Braxiatel Lungbarrow was not there to be apologized to though. He had not been for a very long time. He was one among the now many pointless deaths made on Romana’s behalf. He had always been remarkably clever, but even he eventually had to succumb to a combination of age and being on the wrong end of a dalek’s weapon after nearly a quarter century of fighting. She remembered that day when she dragged him away to a place of relative cover and safety. It was no use though, Brax was beyond help. He would soon die after having taken a blast for her, to which he said he “would have done so again, gladly”. Then, as if his tongue were a man unchained from years of bondage, he confessed something that he had been withholding from her for many years. It was the reason why he had always helped her, even at his own expense and safety. He had always held Romana in the highest regard and admiration in her younger days. He had first seen her when he was coming back from a war campaign. His plan had been to take back his cardinal position on the Council, which he was successful in. He was in his thirties then and her just starting out in the Council Chambers, barely in her twenties. Her taking on such a responsibility that once belonged to her father, and at such a young age, reminded him tremendously of himself in so many ways. A friend of her uncle, the king, Brax was always sure to ask about her progress and promised to provide any assistance that would help the clever woman to reach her full potential. He was quite displeased when it was her cousin, Imperiatrix, and not Romana, who had been elected the Princess Regent when the women’s uncle had became suddenly ill.

The war with the daleks soon came and under the mismanagement of Imperiatrix, the fighting tumbled out of control fast. When the king died, Imperiatrix made enough empty promises to get the votes she needed to make herself Queen over her cousin. Even with Imperiatrix’s position officially cemented in place though, Romana still had a target on her back. Behind the scenes, Brax did what he could to protect Romana from her cousin’s paranoia and wrath. Brax’s loyalty was still to Gallifrey, but he would have been lying if he had said that he was not relieved when all his ignored advice led to Imperiatrix’s death at the hands of her enemies in a failed siege for a hopelessly lost territory. Afterwards, he argued on behalf of or intimidated any who opposed Romana’s succession to the throne. As the only surviving member of last great king’s extended nuclear family, she was the defacto ruler. Just like Imperiatrix, Romana was the daughter of a late sibling to king, after all. With no Council Chamber anymore to hold a vote, Romana was essentially the uncrowned Queen of Gallifrey. As far as Brax was concerned though, as was anyone with sense, Romana was Queen. With that more or less settled amongst this queendom of freedom fighters, there was no other way to help Romana left short of retaking control of Gallifrey with her. So that was what he set out to do. It was only several years later into their war efforts together that he realized, not only did he respect and admire Romana’s leadership in the face of insurmountable odds, he loved her. It was not long after that that Brax knew that he was in love with Romana and realized that he had been for a long time. Having never had fancied himself capable of being in love, it shocked him, but there it was, Irving Braxiatel in love.

“It’s so inadequate a description, but Romana, I love you.” There was no mistaking in his tone what kind of love he meant. Romana was just as shocked to hear this love confession as Brax has been when he had first realized his feelings. Romana honestly had never suspected and expressed as much. He owned that that was his own fault. He kept his feelings so closely guarded, even from himself. He had felt unworthy of her. Her, a strong leader, who in her youth could have been a queen, if only given the chance… And he, a noble turned soldier trying to bring back the honor lost to his family when his father, Ulysses, was executed as a supposed traitor. There were whispers that the traitor was more likely closer to the crown than his father… That Imperiatrix’s own father had been implicated. The leniency on the rest of the House of Lungbarrow’s children for their father’s treachery made it doubly certain. Lord Ulysses had fallen on his sword for the sake of an unworthy member of the head of state. Romana was always amazed that, considering this rumored history, that the Lungbarrow brothers would show any care or kindness to her at all. Yet here was one of them speaking such sweet words to her with his last dying breaths.

“May I beg one favor ere I go, My Lady?” Brax asked, trying very hard not to cough up blood, ever a vain man, even at death’s door. Romana resisted the urge to waste precious time arguing that he was talking nonsense and he would not die.

“Anything.” She simply replied in a gentle tone. She waited for a request, but there was none. He simply removed her bloodied glove and, much to his infinitesimal hint of self-censure afterwards, stained the back of her clean hand with a perfect impression of his bloody lips. He then took her hand against the side of his face and Irving Braxiatel passed away from this world in her arms. Romana had had too many lonely nights after that to think on her feelings towards one of her most loyal allies in her thirty years of fighting and her life.

Not to be outdone by Brax, his brother, The Doctor, would soon follow his elder’s path defending Rose from a dalek attack. He was a bit younger than his brother, but the slightest advantage of youth could only do so much. Before he passed though, rather than expressing feelings of regret, The Doctor simply begged Rose to do whatever she could to take Romana and Leela to his lab and shut themselves inside. Rose reluctantly complied, abandoning her dear friend’s body and dragging a protesting Lady Romana and Leela from the melee and back towards the lab. 

Rose and the ladies entered and locked the lab with the aid of a special key The Doctor had given her: the TARDIS key. No one, not even Rose, would know the significance of that name until much, much later on. The Doctor told her to wear it around her neck always and Rose only thought on it as a tool to get into the lab and a reminder of her dear friend. Rose’s mind was similarly engaged now as she locked the door with the key for perhaps the last time before she may very well see The Doctor again… If there was such a thing as the afterlife. Needless to say, Rose was surprised to see The Doctor was already there in the lab with them without any of them having to die first! However, Rose soon saw things for what they were… It was not truly The Doctor. It was a projection of some kind and through it, The Doctor’s image spoke.

“Rose, if you are seeing this, then the base has been taken with no chance of winning it back and most likely, I am dead. Which is fine, I hope it is a good death. But I always promised you that I would someday get you home and I think I have found a way. It is untested, so I did not want to mention it to you until I was more certain of the outcome. There is no time to do that now, so with death at the door, I offer the hope of a chance of a way out…” A machine in the center of the room lit up and a portal opened up. “This is a window to the past, more than thirty years in the past. If you go through, my theory is that you will be transported to that time and escape. Who knows, maybe you could ever cause a paradox and stop this horrible day from ever even happening. Or maybe the Universe implodes… Best not to think on that. The point is, what I want for you most is for you to have a good life. Do that for me, Rose, please.” With his last request spoken, the image of The Doctor blinked out of existence and Rose was blinking back tears. Leela was the first to speak up, prompted by the sound of the barricaded doors starting to break down.

“Shall I stay and fight, Lady Romana?” Leela asked as she faced the shuttering doorframe, her weapons drawn.

“No,” said Romana, “We shall stay together and we are all going.”

“The Doctor always said that time travel was a wonky process. Anything could happen if we go through that portal, but I trust him.” Rose vowed as she linked her arms with the women she now called her dearest friends. “Right, hold on tight and if we get separated we should meet…” 

“We shall meet at the Citadel.” Romana stated very matter-of-factly. Rose had thought that she had seen the end of The Doctor in this future, but as she drew closer to the portal, a smaller projection of him on the console appeared.

“Remember, Rose. This is a one way trip. The machine will self-destruct immediately afterwards so there is no chance of you being followed. So everyone, be sure that this is what you really want, a second chance to get it right. Well, good luck and maybe I might see you again on the other side.” With that the laboratory was silent but for the pounding on the reinforced doors. Everyone nodded to the other and jumped in!


	2. The Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Romana begins to set her plan in motion to save the future, but she will need willing accomplices... And no one can possibly be introduced to accomplices in a ballroom. ^_~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to GroovyKat and The-Plot-Thinens. 
> 
> This is the first chapter of two that I really wanted to write after seeing this illustration, which I finally managed find again here: https://devilfromthestars.tumblr.com/post/38877266661/them-being-formal-but-not-exactly-in-gallifreyan

The experience of traveling backwards through time was a jarring experience to say the least. Romana turned to Rose to ask if being thrust forward through time had been just as bad for her. She was quite surprised when she saw that neither Rose nor Leela were anywhere to be found. Not only that, it seemed that she had also moved in space as well as time. She was already at the Citadel and moreover, the ballroom! She looked down at herself and saw a comparative monstrosity of fabrics clinging to her body considering the garbs of war to which she was usually accustomed. Her clothing had been in tatters only moments before, but this dress was gorgeous, blue and new! It was almost overwhelming to see such untainted splendor! 

Collecting her emotions, Romana quickly sat down on a stone bench at a large window near where she stood. Evidently, she was in a quiet alcove just off from the bustling of the ballroom… Thank goodness for small favors! She needed a few silent, calm moments to get her wits about her. Romana soon regretted sitting in the moonlight though. It made the sight of her shimmering gown that much more distracting and dizzying to look at. Well, at least the heavenly illumination was now helping her recall where she had seen the glamorous frock before. This was the dress dubbed in whispers the “Ice Maiden’s Gown”, a cruel nickname she had been given during her old Academy days by her fellow pupils. Sadly, the moniker followed her after graduation into the Council Chambers as well. Apparently being smart, poised, quiet and therefore, less inclined to have visible weaknesses beyond shyness were not endearing qualities amongst the social climbing aristocrats of the Capitol. At any rate, she had worn it for a ball that coincided with her recent birthday. 

Yes, this had been a somewhat happier time almost two years before she was outmaneuvered by her treacherous cousin. So that meant it was about three and a half years before Gallifrey tumbled into an endless war Romana had only escaped by going backwards in time! It was less then four years before thirty years of hell… Then Romana recalled that she was from thirty years in the future! So what the hell was she doing in a dress that she wore in her twenties?! She hurriedly turned to the window to look at her reflection in the dimly lit glass, trying fruitlessly to glean just how many years now showed on her face!

“Blast, it’s too dark to see even a crow’s foot!” Romana cursed!

“A bit young yet to be worrying about such things, My Lady.” Puzzled an ironic voice she had never thought she would hear again in this lifetime.

“Brax!” Romana gasped as she spun back around in disbelief! She was about to ask what he was doing there, but then her brilliant mind finally caught up with her. It was thirty years in the past. Of course Irving Braxiatel was still alive. Still alive and an imposing figure, towering over her in his dark regiments, as if in eternal mourning for the loss of his family’s position in the Capitol... Yet his perpetual coolness of manner and speech belied him being affected by his circumstance in any way at all. He was called “The Icicle” in court by many because of it… The Ice Maiden and the Icicle… No wonder the two of them got along so well in a war room. She could scarcely believe she had forgotten the sobriquet, let alone had never made the connection with hers until now. 

Well, at least Romana had no need for a mirror anymore. Ball gown or no, surely Brax would notice if she looked every day of her many years of hard warfare. Backlit where she was standing, she moved into full moonlight. With her most dignified, aristocratic stance, Romana awaited the firing squad of horrified gasps he would undoubtedly make at the sight of her marred beauty. “Brax” spoke but said not syllable on her appearance.

“If we are going to speak to one another so familiarly, My Lady, then please, call me ‘Irving’.” Brax chuckled in good humor. “But since you most certainly won’t be calling me that, best to stick with ‘Lord Braxiatel’.” Romana could not fathom how, but judging from the lack of a break in the conversation she had unwittingly started… Her outer appearance must have somehow matched the times. She was somehow not only occupying the hours of times past, but also her past body! The cogs of her brilliant mind began to turn at lightning speed when she realized that The Doctor had set her back in time in such a way that, if she played her cards right… She may well be able to not just temporarily escape the danger of the Daleks of Skaro, but also stop the war from happening all together! 

This would not be an easy feat and she certainly had to hustle if she was going to have Gallifrey ready to prevent an invasion in less than four years! She would need allies. She would need an army and people she could trust! Her greatest future allies were, by far, the sons of the disgraced House of Lungbarrow. She needed to secure their partnership as early as possible. Considering The Doctor’s obvious inventive genius and Irving Braxiatel’s political/military mind, having them on her side, formally looking out for her, was a no-brainer. But how could she do so without rousing too much suspicion? Any move to gather friends by this bookish, introverted, younger version of herself would seem out of character. Romana could not risk prompting her cousin too soon to start trying to usurp her completely as a likely candidate to be elected the next ruler of Gallifrey. That nasty business did not happen, Romana believed, until about a year from now when their uncle, the king, grew sick and Romana was in no hurry to relive any of it. Hmm, maybe nothing could be done about the power plays, but perhaps something could be done about her uncle’s illness… 

In any event, Romana needed all the time she could to plan. There were still too many facets involved in successfully tackling this venture, even if she did now have the luxury of time. No, nix that. Romana could take nothing for grated, not even the four or two years she assumed she had until war. Even if she did nothing different to clue off her cousin, just her talking to Lord Braxiatel now, had completely altered the original timeline from what she remembered. Anything could happen from this point on. Which meant, now that she thought about it, even her original plan to wait around for Rose and Leela to find her at the Citadel was too naïve and risky. She had to bring her friends to her and now! Her security detail was never too far away, so…

“Lord Andred!” Romana called out, not loudly, but it certainly projected. Forgetting for a moment that Lord Braxiatel was there, her suddenly authoritative voice was enough to make him raise a curious brow. The Captain of the Guard swiftly came into the alcove from just outside the other room.

“Yes, My Lady.” answered Andredaselus of the House of Redlooms, another ally who was loyal, but had died early on in the war protecting her. That would not happen this time, if she could help it. She turned to Andred.

“There is a woman living amongst the Warriors of the Sevateem in the distant land of Mordee, called ‘Leela’. I have heard that she is a warrior of unmatched strength and a great proficient in self-defense. I would like to acquire her as an instructor and lady-in-waiting, if she is willing to come to the Capitol. You are the only one to whom I can entrust this mission to be completed without fuss and discreetly. Please set out tomorrow.”

“I will do what My Lady wishes, but I have heard of no such proficient that stands above the rest of the skilled warriors in that region.” Andred owned.

“Well, then certainly test her skills before you bring her. I would not wish to bring someone into my inner circle on hearsay alone.” Romana smiled in quite a diplomatic manner. This seemed to satisfy Andred and that more than satisfied Romana. Oh, to be a fly on the wall when that poor, young captain challenged Leela’s metal. He literally would not know what hit him! 

“I will make the arrangement for a replacement in my absence and set out at first light, My Lady.” Andred bowed and with that he was gone. Lord Braxiatel was almost gone as well. He had thought that he had been dismissed since Romana was obviously engaged in a very important, private exchange with her security detail and so took his leave. He had nearly walked right back out into the festivities of the ballroom by the time Romana had noticed his absence by her side! Her heart nearly jumped right up into her throat! She could not lose him to a blasted party when this was the perfect opportunity to somehow bring him into her inner circle!

“Irving!” she hurriedly pronounced without thinking. This slip of the tongue turned out to be a good one, as it more than produced the desired effect. Lord Braxiatel stopped dead in his tracks, his back suddenly ramrod straight. No, that was not it… Was he shuttering at the sound of his name on her lips? No, that could not be. They barely knew one another. There was no way that Brax could have been so affected by such simple terms of endearment from her this far back along the time line. Or could he? 

In that paused moment, Romana was starting to truly appreciate just how much of an enormous amount of time she had had to think on the potential opportunities of her stolen youth. Hundreds of what-ifs and never-weres, particularly regarding her life with friends lost along the way, were laid out before her like roads far off into the expansive distance of her mind’s eye. Unlike in the future though, she could do more now than just wistfully stare back down those roads of missed fortune. She could actually venture down them. An idea then formed in her head. It was a mad one… Impossible and perfectly imperfect in how it would solve many of her troubles while undoubtedly creating a whole slew of new ones in tandem. Nevertheless, she decided then that if she was going to try and maybe fail again in the future as she went exploring down new, old paths… Particularly one she never even knew existed until she saw it bled out in her arms and onto the floor of the battlefield in her fifties… Then let the path she risked going down, above all others, be this one.

Romana mirrored Braxiatel’s straight posture, but she did it more to draw courage from within for what she was about to do than to match his etiquette. “May I beg one favor ere you go?” she asked, surprising herself to be reciting Brax’s own last words but in such a different situation. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. She lifted up her gloved hand to Braxiatel, expectantly. Braxiatel must have been trying to look dignified in his bewildered walk over to her to comply, but he did not quite manage. Romana tried not to let her amusement show. Perhaps her Brax had indeed lied as to how soon his regard for her had bloomed into an amoroso nature. Good, he had no right looking so collected when she herself was such a disquieted mess inside. 

Not wanting to rewrite it completely, but wanting to exchange some of the more bittersweet aspects of her Brax’s last moments with joyous ones… As Braxiatel was about to take her hand, Romana pulled off her glove and presented her naked hand to him. He only hesitated as long as it took him to understand her intention and he kissed the back of her hand before she brought said hand up to cup the side of his face. It was not the most proprietary thing to do, but the momentary awed look on his face was worth any societal condemnation to Romana. The moment was lost when Braxiatel seemed to decide to be the proper one between them and took a respectable step back. Romana was truly now an old woman at heart and so the idea of Braxiatel safeguarding her young, maidenly honor was endearingly humorous, but she resisted her urge to laugh. After all, she really had to get back on track with her purpose.

“Irving,” Romana stated. He shuttered again and Romana realized that if she was going to call him that going forward, she would likely need to factor in his recovery period before continuing any further with a conversation. “I would like you, in the way that only you can, to formally court me and propose marriage within an extremely hasty, yet somewhat appropriate duration of time.” Even Braxiatel, the Icicle, who was likened to a chess player whether on the battlefield or in the political arena at the Capitol, did not see that one coming! Romana knew this was a very tall order and so she did not give him time to get a potential word of protest in edgewise. “I would also request that you immediately convey to your brother, Theta Sigma, that he is to come to the Citadel under the guise of intending to acquire a new laboratory assistant. I would like him to arrive from Lungbarrow House as quickly as you can possibly arrange it so.” Now Braxiatel was catching on.

“I gather that you have a plan in motion that requires you to have a cemented alliance with the House of Lungbarrow.” Braxiatel said very gravely, it was not a question. “I would help you, My Lady, regardless. You need not bind yourself to me for an alliance. And my brother is a dear acquaintance of yours. He would surely help you as well. You need only ask.” Typical Brax, Romana mused, always giving her a way out of anything he perceived to be a danger. Romana then smiled at him slyly.

“Why, Braxiatel. I’ve never known you to back away from an opponent’s challenge. Particularly one that presents such opportunity.” Braxiatel almost let out half of a gravely chuckle. She was not hedging him that way.

“Any wise soldier will retreat from a battle if the risk far outweighs the chances of victory. Especially in matters of the heart.” Braxiatel stated plainly. Wait. To who’s heart was he referring? Romana looked deep into the man’s eyes which rarely told anything and swore she found the answer in them: his heart. Well… She knew that he harbored feelings for her. So why did he not leap at the chance to attach himself to her in whatever way that he could? Perhaps, merely possessing her hand meant torturously nothing to Braxiatel if he could not have the most important part of her: her own heart. Romana was not sure yet if she could give him what he desired. However, never had she ever met another steadfast and true individual like Brax with whom she thought it possible. 

So there was the deal. If she wanted his hand and all the privileges and accesses such a pairing would allow her at all times, she had to give him her heart. And she was stubborn enough to do it. At that moment, Romana vowed to herself, and her Brax of the future that was no more, that somehow she would teach her heart to love this strange and familiar man.

“Irving,” Romana smiled genuinely, “What might I do to convince you of my sincerity in this undertaking?” Braxiatel shook his head.

“You need do nothing, My Lady.” he replied with a bow. “Please, in time, tell me all that I am to know. Tell me every detail so that I may best be of service to you. In the interim, I shall send for my brother.”

“You’ll do this without knowing anything of my scheme or even what I want from a marriage with you?”

“I know you are not one to cruelly trifle with hearts and minds, My Lady. I shall call on you as instructed tomorrow after making my intensions known to your noble uncle before the ball is concluded.” Braxiatel said simply as he began to walk away again. Romana sighed in relief. He would help her and even without knowing the gravity of what he was agreeing to do... She had not doubted that her Brax would help, but she was just not confident that a mousy woman like her, as she was in the past, had yet earned this Braxiatel’s unique friendship. One of her goals was now accomplished, but she could not let him go just yet. Not without telling him some of the truth.

“Irving.” Romana half winced, now knowing the power that name had over him. She did not want to make it seem that she wielded it as a weapon to tether his heart to her. “You have always been one of the most reliable gentleman of my acquaintance. I would be proud to call you friend or husband. Would you grant me, or do I ask too much, the honor of one dance with you before the night is done?” Braxiatel did not hesitate as he turned away from the ballroom yet again.

“My Lady… flatters me.” Braxiatel whispered, almost purred, as he offered his arm to a confused, but complying Romana. He then began to lead her back towards the ballroom. Apparently he had no intention of delaying the proffered dance or making her wait until the end of the night to bestow the honor. Romana could not help but silently blush as the Ice Maiden and the Icicle left the dark alcove, stepped onto the dance floor and into view of all fashionable society in Arcadia.


	3. The Stumble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Romana has secured a partner in her scheme... And a dance partner...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, GK and TPT!
> 
> Part two of the two chapters I came up with this idea just so I could write.

Braxiatel was true to his end of the bargain and more so. Romana had never seen him dance before, but had she been the type of woman to swoon, she may well have done so. She almost wished she could watch from the crowd just to see his technique from a better angle. No, the angle she had now was best, and besides, she did not think she would enjoy seeing him dance with anyone else. Romana tried to be an equally worthy partner in the dance, but over thirty years of being out of practice had made her rusty. If Braxiatel noticed the absence of her renowned grace, he certainly did not say anything. In fact, he may have even enjoyed having to dip her a couple of times to compensate for her tripping on her gown or being thrown off balance by her ridiculous high heeled shoes. Maybe until she was accustomed to them again she could wear flat slippers, the closest thing to her preferred choice of footwear, boots, which was socially acceptable in court. Brought out of her musings, Romana realized that she had “spoke” too soon about her partner not commenting on her dancing.

“Now, I know it is not my superb dancing skills that are making a graceful proficient such as yourself nervous. What is really going on, My Lady?” Braxiatel smiled flirtatiously, but his voice belied his easy expression. Irving Braxiatel, ever the observant soldier. Romana’s foreknown threat to Gallifrey was further off than he could have suspected, but he still could see it weighed heavy on her mind. Romana gave an equally disarming smile, maybe for him as much as it was for onlookers of their dance.

“I cannot say what it is now. But I will tell you what I can when my friends and your brother are assembled at the Citadel.”

“‘Friends’? You put me in a most precarious position, My Lady. For your words are provoking my curiosity so that I wish to go and see that your will is done all the faster… But that would leave my dance partner sadly bereft.” Braxiatel humorously lamented. If he was truly worried, he was hiding it well behind his disarming smile and all that charm.

“Two dances are customary for an interested suitor. You can certainly leave after the next reel without any such bereavement.” Romana reassured.

“Ah, yes. But three dances would make my intensions clearly known. And I care not to leave My Lady un-intended in this den of unsuitable suitors.” Braxiatel wittily countered. Romana had to resist the urge to laugh. Seeing this side of him gave her great pleasure. She had suspected that Brax had been a clever, witty rogue in his youth, but he had been all formality in war and even before that. She had not been privy to very much of his humor. But if this was the kind of mental sparing she was to expect in their union, she found comfort in knowing that at least her mind would always be engaged with him, even after they were wed. Romana tried not to laugh at her own joke. Braxiatel was certainly a bad influence on her.

The next dance started up, but the pair did not leave the floor. Romana, eager for their witty tête-à-tête to continue, picked up from where their conversation left off.

“So, three dances and a talk with my uncle were your intension since when exactly, Irving?” Braxiatel, thoroughly encouraged, did not hesitate to be candid with her.

“Naturally, since before you asked me to dance, My Lady.” Romana raised a delicate eyebrow at that.

“But you had no way of knowing that I would ask you to dance. And you were already leaving to go back into the ballroom. I assumed so you could speak straight away with my uncle.” Romana argued. Braxiatel smiled.

“Can’t a gentleman have a little bit of confidence at a ball that a woman of superior intelligence and good breeding would not allow a specimen, such as myself, to leave her sight without first securing him as a dance partner?” Braxiatel smirked. Romana would have scoffed at his self-assuredness if she did not find it so oddly amusing.

“Quite a gambit when you could have simply asked the lady yourself.” Romana stated.

“Not when you already know what lies in the heart of the lady.” Braxiatel simply stated back as he gently twirled her to the music at the appropriate juncture. That statement jarred Romana and suddenly she did not feel like an older woman with all the secrets to win at a young woman’s game. She felt every bit her twenty-something year old self again, exposed, and now, being told things about herself that she was not quite ready or willing to hear. Braxiatel picked up on her discomfort. He seemed almost painfully flustered by it, his bravado from before retreating to be replaced with a detachment of someone trying to conceal that they may have revealed too much of themselves too quickly. He tilted his face somewhat away, not entirely able to meet her distressed eyes. “My words have upset My Lady. My most sincere apologies.” he repented, all formality again. To an outside observer, it may have looked like Lord Irving Braxiatel Lungbarrow had made a love confession, one that shocked his dance partner. 

The orchestra concluded and all the dancing couples bowed. Some pairs bowed out, not daring to engage in a second or third dance. If Romana wanted to, she could, she should, bow out now too. Yes, she wanted the speedy courtship necessary to have an excuse to have unlimited access to the Lungbarrows and all their resources and allies. That was the mission she set out for herself, but this was still happening all too fast. She thought for sure that Braxiatel’s ardent regard for her, if it could at all after her disturbing the original timeline, would come slowly over time. Just like care or affection might form in any other arranged marriage she had witnessed growing up. She had no point of reference to work from with Braxiatel seeming to be legitimately acting but not playing the part of a besotted suitor. 

Braxiatel raised his upturned palm for her. Infinitesimally, Romana pulled back her own raised wrist. It was her best attempt at trying not to look terrified to touch his gloved hand, no matter where it might lead her. However, her cool head prevailed and she could plainly see he had offered his hand to escort her off the dance floor. Not to engage in the weighty third dance.

At a loss, Romana took her eyes from his hand to really focus on his inviting face. She almost gasped at what she found there. There! As if she had seen a ghost. There was the Brax she knew. The Brax with all his emotions, all his feelings locked away and hidden from her, behind an impenetrable wall of icy blue eyes. Her younger self would not have recognized it. She, as she was now, would not have noticed either had she not spent most of her adult life staring at those shields of steely blue before finally seeing them thrown aside for her as he lay dying. In that moment, Romana felt infinite sadness across time and space for her timeline’s long gone Brax. For her Brax’s sake, she had to find bravery for this Braxiatel! No longer hesitating, she took Braxiatel’s offered hand and when he moved to lead her off the floor, she took his hand and positioned it in place for their third dance. Romana almost doubted that she had seen it, for it was for so short a moment, but she could have sworn Braxiatel’s expression looked relieved by her choice. 

Ultimately, the deciding indicator for Romana that Braxiatel was pleased by her decision was how the ghost of her poor Brax’s secretive gaze no longer seemed to linger around his eyes. The absence of her old Brax made Romana feel oddly happy and mournful at the same time. However, if she could help it, that part of Brax would finally be put to a peaceful rest. And then, like a phoenix from the ashes of all that hidden pain and wasted chances, he could rise up again in the Braxiatel who stood before her. 

They spun around quietly for a bit, obviously too much the center of attention now, for anyone keeping track of their dance card, to speak too freely. Their large, new audience was certainly a decent excuse to keep hush for a spell, but Romana could not remain silent. Before anything could come out from the ashes of her former life to walk along side this Braxiatel, she had to know something important. Yes, it was cowardly for Romana to do this before Braxiatel knew that she was essentially a time traveler from, hopefully, an aborted future... But she would have to deal with the consequences later.

“Irving?” Romana said with all the nonchalant mannerisms they both adopted with all eyes upon them.

“Yes, My Lady?” Perfectly mirroring her tone.

“I wish to speak with you on the hypothetical.” Romana began.

“Hypothetical?” Braxiatel puzzled, but at the same time intrigued to be privy to her inner thoughts.

“Yes, if someone was to secret away their ‘unworthy’ love from you for decades and never revealed it until it was too late... They just left you with the knowledge to be examined alone… Condemning you to years, the rest of your life, of what-ifs! How is that fair?” Romana questioned with passion, although her voice barely raised above her even tone.

“It isn’t. It’s quite selfish and cowardly.” he owned without having to ponder on it.

“Then why confess at all?” Romana demanded in frustration.

“Even a selfish coward can act against their nature when presented with a more terrifying prospect, My Lady.”

“And what might that be, Irving Braxiatel?” Romana groused, losing her patience, trying in vain to remember that this man was not yet, and hopefully would never be, her Brax.

“Allowing such a love to die never having been known.” Braxiatel replied simply, but honestly. Romana paused at this and almost fouled up her greatly improving dance steps because of it. Braxiatel’s was quite an irritatingly simple explanation. And yet, in a completely unintended way, had that not been exactly what her Brax had done? If he had never told her with his dying breaths how he felt… She would have certainly never had hatched up this plan in the way that she had. She would have passed through The Doctor’s retro-time portal and have gone on like she had in the future with the Braxiatel of the past. The cycle of unexplored hearts would have begun anew. By telling her how he felt, he had put the ball in her court to do with it what she may. She was not sure if she could ever forgive her Brax for leaving her the way that he did. Never having the nerve, or maybe just self-confidence, to tell her how he felt until he was at death’s door and the threat of eternal heartache was only on her side… But he had inadvertently gifted her with some invaluable insight and she could not punish and hate his younger self for a crime he had not yet committed. Romana gently squeezed his hand and arm, the only real form of intimacy she could express in a ballroom full of people. She then looked into his eyes and subsequently into the eyes of the man he would never be as well, her Brax.

“Yes, I suppose that would be a more frightening notion…” Romana smiled as gently as her grip on him and agreed with Braxiatel’s ideas on the travesties of love dying in obscurity. Braxiatel’s brilliant, tactic mind swirled trying to interpret any hidden meaning behind this hypothetical discussion. She could not be referring to himself, for, though he had yet to confess, the tenure for his secret longings for Romana’s affection was not anywhere remotely long enough to span even half a decade. At length, he was forced to be satisfied only in knowing that, whatever the reason Romana had asked, it had been very important to her and she liked his answer. He was oddly relieved, but still, he could not let any avenue of a mystery go unexplored. 

“And might My Lady care to enlighten me as to what brought on this interesting supposition? For I would hope that neither one of us have been alive long enough for our hearts to tragically pine away for decades.” Braxiatel smiled trying to hide how much he wanted and how much he feared her honest reply. Romana nearly winced at his inquiry. The man was a bit insufferable when it came to his need to always probe for more information. Particularly now that he wanted more than she was prepared or willing to disseminate... Luckily, the third dance ended, causing the floor to erupt into a thunder of applause for the orchestra and then everyone bowing to their respected dance partners. With four dances being considered obscene for anyone but married couples, at least on that dance floor, there was a moratorium on any further discussion of the topic between them. Braxiatel was obviously disappointed as he led Romana off the dance floor, but Romana could not help but feel relieved. This night had certainly been an unexpected endurance exercise for Romana when it came to being open about her emotions. As much as she was in a hurry to save the future, she needed a break. Braxiatel, again, fully dedicate to play his part, elegantly bowed to Romana once they were amongst the wallflowers. He then gingerly kissed her gloved hand and wasted no time heading over towards her uncle. Romana suddenly felt a bit dizzy at the prospect of what he was doing. It was just absurd, at her “age”, that soon she would be an all-but-engaged-young-woman and to a vibrant man who, only a couple hours ago, had been dead for years! Eagerly, she set out to find somewhere to sit down and recover.


	4. The Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose's reentry into her salad days when she was green in judgment is a bit more bumpy than Romana's in some aspects...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all my supportive, Whovian Discord friends!

Romana would not get the chance to sit down because, all at once, two of her guards approached her.

“Beg your pardon, My Lady. But there is a message for your ladyship from someone who knew your ladyship’s clearance phrase and is requesting both an audience with your ladyship and your ladyship’s protection. We have her at the guard’s gatehouse so that no further risk of harm comes to her in the meanwhile… But we wanted to make sure this was not some sort of ruse.” explained the younger guard. 

“No ‘further risk of harm’?” Romana questioned, unable to let that detail slip above all the rest.

“The threat has been neutralized, My Lady. Nothing to worry about, but how would her ladyship like us to proceed? Is her ladyship expecting any visitors?” asked the older of the two guards. Though “neutralized”, Romana would have to inquiry into the nature of the threat later, but, at the moment, her heart was still racing for another reason. There were only two people she knew, who the guards did not, her ‘old’ clearance phrase, and that was Leela and Rose! Romana had once blurted it out after a round of drinks with the two women. Romana did not remember on how the topic came up, but it resulted in her regaling them with stories of how hard it was for her to make new friends on her own back when she was a resident at the Citadel. All her movement was, to some degree, monitored and she did not have the serendipitous opportunity to just run into new people on the street. No, they had to know the pass phrase “Call me Fred” to get anywhere close to seeing her.

Romana did not even bother opening the envelope provided by the guard. Logically, she was almost certain which of her friends it had to be.

“If it is a woman by the name of ‘Rose Tyler’, she is a dear friend of mine and you will send her to the adjoining suite to my apartments with all the proper accommodations afforded to an esteemed guest. I shall join her shortly.” Romana ordered.

“Yes, My Lady.” answered the guards in unison with a clip of their heels. The pair then headed off to do her bidding. Well, this certainly made it easier to assemble her little party sooner! She would have to make her excuses to leave this party early first though. Well… She needed only to make her departure known to her uncle and she should be good. Now where was her uncle and… Brax.. err Braxiatel? 

Romana peered around as casually as she could. There! On the other side of the massive room! It seemed that her two men of interest were speaking with each other… No, they were in fact leaving the room entirely. Probably so they could continue talking, but in a quieter, more private space. The implications of that suddenly filled her with conflicting emotions. For the second time that night, Romana thought she would love to be a fly on the wall. But then, when she thought about it, she sort of dreaded to even begin to imagine how that conversation would go. No, best not think on it at all! At any rate, if he uncle was indisposed, then Romana just had to leave the premises without running into anyone from the Council Chambers. Easy enough… Well, not really.

All things considered, Romana’s night had been fairly pleasant. She came to herself during a ball and, after all, in the company of friends and family long since gone. Rose Tyler, unfortunately, had not been so lucky. Unlike Romana, Rose had been thrown back into her body earlier that morning, and on the most terrible of mornings… a work day. Granted it was the last day before the weekend, but she worked weekends, so what did any of that matter?

“Rose, dear, if you don’t fold that dress proper, it’s going to ruin the creases!” a vaguely familiar voice warned her from behind her. Rose’s head shot up!

“What?” Rose yelped, feeling completely disoriented! The conditioning of a shopkeeper must have been dormant, but still very much alive, in Rose because she just self-corrected her folding method rather than question why she was folding blouses at all! As she awkwardly stumbled through the motions of her clockwork daily routine, for a time, Rose’s mind could not discern if her life over the past few years in the dystopian future had been a dream or not. Was she a woman who became a scientist in the field or a delusional shop girl? She quickly decided that believing she had lived in the future but right now, thanks to The Doctor, was somehow reliving her past life was a far better alternative. This flash decision of it being better to believe in the preposterously impossible was prompted when the shop doorbell rang and in walked Jimmy Stone! That ridiculous outfit he was wearing and the crappy guitar on his back… She gasped! This was the day she would elope with Jimmy Stone! 

“Still take your breath away, do I?” Jimmy purred as he leaned on the display next to her. Rose of the past had been flirting with this man for quite a bit of time. At this point though, he had been getting really pushy for Rose to put out. Past Rose had been naïve and much younger than Jimmy. So naturally, she had thought that what Jimmy had to offer her was love, stability, devotion and above all, the opportunity to leave her humdrum, predictably bleak future behind. Well, future Rose knew better! She was absolutely disgusted as he followed her around the shop and began to instruct her like a simpleton on where and when they would leave town that night… Her revulsion hit its peak as he spoke shamelessly on what nasty business they would quickly get up to before rejoining his traveling band mates for that night’s performance. He even had the audacity to tell her what he expected her to wear to that gig! Rose got safely behind the counter and, feeling confident with a barrier between them, promptly got ready to turn him and his lousy, sordid promises of a traveling romance down flat. To Rose’s credit, but mostly out of respect for her old boss, she kindly did nothing to make a scene.

“Jimmy, I have been thinking on what I want to do with my life. And I have realized that I cannot do it while touring. So I have decided, rather than hold you back, I won’t go traveling with your band.” Rose explained in a very politic manner. She even wished him all the best when really all she wanted was to tell him to just shunt off and not come round anymore. Do all this after kicking him in some really sensitive parts of his anatomy, of course. 

Despite Rose’s restraint though, Jimmy exhibited none. He did not take this kind rejection, which was done with more politeness than he would ever deserve, very well at all. After cursing Rose out as a liar, a cheat, a shameless slag and so many other horrid, untrue things, the shop owner’s gigantic husband, Mr. Henrik, had to be brought in from the back of the store to throw Jimmy out. Jimmy was younger, but the older man had about a hundred pounds and six inches on the lousy excuse for a minstrel. Mr. Henrik threw Jimmy out like an errant cat so easily it was almost comical. Rose could not laugh though. She knew that there was no way that that would be the end of it considering what an abusive sociopath he turned out to be in Rose’s future past. Well, at least for the moment, she was glad that she would never go down the path of becoming his abused “girlfriend” again. Rose just hoped that she would be long gone, off to the Citadel and out of harm’s way the next time Jimmy came looking for her.

Luckily, since Past Rose had already put in her notice of leave in anticipation of running off with Jimmy, she did not anger her old boss when she said that she would not be finishing her workday and would not be coming back to work again. Rose was, again, going to the Citadel, but the shop owner just assumed, since Jimmy knew where Rose worked and she was no longer leaving town with him, the poor girl wanted to leave early to get away from him. She wished Rose good luck, gave her a small and unexpected goodbye bonus along with her regular weekly earnings. Her old boss even offered to have her husband walk Rose home. Rose, of course, took the offer gratefully. Rose quickly finished up her last folding job and then Mr. Henrik and her left the shop. 

“Where are you headed, Miss Rose?” inquired her boss’ burly husband. Rose paused for a moment, not sure. She wanted to go to the Citadel, but that was a little out of the way of how far Rose was willing to make him follow. With that nixed, the most obvious, but shamefully to Rose, not a destination that was in the forefront of her mind, was home. Yes, the Powell Estate and the flat her and her mother, Jackie, had once shared. Rose marveled at how strange that sounded when, for her, it was so many years ago. Goddess, her mother was alive! It had been a long time since she had thought on her mother and now she could see her again! It was like a dream. And speaking of dreams, she must have seemed like she was daydreaming and Mr. Henrik was still patiently awaiting her reply.

“Um, I’m headed home, I suppose.” Rose finally stuttered out as she tried not to get misty eyed at the thought of seeing her mother again.

“That twerp, Jimmy, really scared you, didn’t he?” asked Mr. Henrik, mistaking Rose’s agitated state being due to the abusive scene from earlier. 

“Oh, no… I just…” Rose struggled to stay focused on the conversation.

“Men like him are cowards who think that the world owes them something. He had no right to say or make you listen to those lies about you. And though I have no doubt that someday a clever kid like you will be someone’s whole world, you don’t owe Jimmy nothing either. And remember, toads like him are invested in fine ladies never finding that out their true value. Because if you truly knew your worth, a lady like you would never give him the time of day. That weakling is going to go through life friendless and I promise you, Miss Rose, so long as there are people just one drop braver than him, you will never be friendless.” He affirmed. Rose was in shock. In her entire acquaintance with this humongous man, she could have sworn the walls of buildings spoke more than him! And yet, he had just said one of the kindest things she only wished she had heard when she was this younger version of herself the first time around! She did not know what to say… so at length she simply said…

“Thank you, Mr. Henrik. S’very nice of you to say.” Rose smiled.

“It’s just the truth, Miss Rose.” Mr. Henrik answered simply. 

Thankfully, Mr. Henrik went back to his stone sell and did not say a word more after his impromptu pep talk. Rose needed her attention completely undivided because she was sweating bullets at some junctures. Mr. Henrik, naturally, expected her to know the way to her own house and Rose’s memory was a bit sketchy on the subject. The burnt out remnants of the city that she had come to know looked nothing like Arcadia now, in its comparative heyday. Rose managed though and eventually parted ways with the giant of a man with a surprisingly bigger heart. Well, if she had to relive her retail days for a day, at least Rose got this little gem out of it.

When Rose saw her mother again, she could not hold back the tears brought on by the unfamiliar and wonderful sight!

“Mum!” Rose cried as she ran to her! If Rose may have drawn out a slight “oomph!” from her mother with the force in which she embraced her, she could hardly be blamed. “Oh, Mum. I missed you so much!” Rose’s muffled voice wept into her mother’s shoulder as she continued to hug her.

“It can’t have been that bad a day at the dressmaker’s shop, sweetheart.” Jackie laughed. Seeing that her daughter was truly upset, Jackie gently asked Rose in all seriousness what was wrong.

“Nothing’s wrong, Mum. I had a great day. I finally told that tosser, Jimmy, to buzz off. And I’m going to be working at the Citadel from now on.” Rose beamed as she tried to dry her tears. Rose also could not help, given the reminder of her old life’s circumstances, to get a little weepy as she really thought of what an amazing opportunity The Doctor had somehow given her… The foresight to avoid an abusive, unworthy suitor, the surprise in learning more people in her old life were looking out for her than she originally knew and soon, access to friends like Romana. People who did not look down on her because her origins were humble and had the influence to allow Rose to do the worthwhile things she wanted to do with her life. 

Oh, she could just crush that silly, old Doctor in the biggest hug in the universe right now… if he were still alive. It made Rose sad that she would never see that Doctor again. But if her mother was still alive here, then her dearest friend must be alive in the past as well. Yes, in so many ways, he would not be the same man she knew, but she would take him in whatever his form the universe would give her if it meant him still being in her life. The sooner she got to the Citadel, the sooner she would know what form and she could not wait! Better with two in the lab, The Doctor and Rose! Her world was looking so much brighter.

To help with the believability of her story and to excuse her absence for a yet unknown period of time, Rose gave her mother almost all her money past Rose had saved up to run off with Jimmy. 

“You see, Mum? Things are looking up. I haven’t even started work at the Citadel yet and I’m already better off and receiving advances.” Rose grinned. Rose’s mother was slightly concerned about the airs and graces Rose might pick up in a house of the ruling class. However, Jackie held her tongue, mostly, when she saw how happy the ideas of working for a “lady of standing” seemed to make Rose. Rose was relieved, but still did not dare tell her mother she was going to be an attendant of a virtual princess. There was no way Jackie would stay quiet about that and Rose needed to keep a low profile. Rose would rather her mother just brag about the extra income. Jealous or petty people around the Powell Estate would be more liable to ignore such lucky news as a pay raise than circulate it, after all. Rose would soon be good as forgotten and so would hopefully not bring any unwanted attention to Romana’s plans to stop a war.

Rose hugged her mother tightly as she said goodbye and promised to visit the next time she had off from work. Rose just hoped that Romana would be expecting her and ready to receive her when she arrived. Ever the observant scientist, Rose wanted to account for Romana’s reorientation upon reentry into this timeline. If Romana was just as confused as she had been when she suddenly found herself reintegrated into her past lives, then Rose had to be ready for anything. Maybe even her friend not remembering or recognizing her. Rose decided that she would go to the guard station at the Citadel. Rose could then ask for an audience with Romana and hand over a letter that was cryptic, but detailed in its explanation on what was going on, to pass along to her friend. Rose quickly penned the necessary letter and sealed it in an envelope. Her letter completed, Rose took the time to pack whatever belongings she thought were too personal or too useful to leave behind. She threw them in a sack and then headed out with the hour.

“Bye, Mum!” Rose waved one last time up towards her mother’s balcony before she went. Rose was so conflicted. She wanted to spend more time with her mother, but she knew she would always and only have the option if she fought for it now. She had to leave again to be able to continue to come back. 

Rose was not even a mile from her home before she knew she was being followed. Years of avoided dalek attacks taught her a level of hyper vigilance that no mugger of this bygone era could even hope to catch unawares. To Rose’s horror though, her stalker was none other than Jimmy Stone! Rose did not even stick around to talk or fight, she ran! 

“I did not just barely survive a futuristic war zone to be taken out by a narcissistic idiot!” Rose swore aloud and she heard Jimmy cursing and swearing what he would do to her when he caught her! Oh, thank goodness this younger body of hers was still in its prime from always running to get to work on time! 

The closer Rose got to the Citadel, the more crowded the streets got. Hopefully, she could lose him in the fray so she would not have to test the limits of her body running all the way to the Citadel’s gates. Rose at some juncture lost her visual of Jimmy, but she dare not stop to catch her breath, let alone look back too much. It was a good thing that she did not stop to look back too because Jimmy was much closer than she initially thought! Rose had started to slow her pace as she finally saw the guard station in her sights and that was when she felt it! A hand grabbed her hair, which was much longer now than she was used to, and pulled hard! Rose screamed in pain, which of course caught the ears of the guards, one guard in particular. Andred, who at that moment was on his way out to see to Romana’s bidding. For a trained soldier like Andred, it only took a moment for him to subdue Jimmy before giving the prat the flogging of his life!

“Coward! Attacking someone from behind!” the Captain of the Guard shouted. Jimmy squealed like a pig, not even trying to fight back as he curled into a ball on the ground. Andred then turned to Rose,

“Are you quite all right, Miss?” he queried with concern, “Are there any more brutes in league with this toad?” Rose wanted to smile at how this soldier had called Jimmy almost everything that Mr. Henrik had called him in their conversation earlier. However, Andred’s words, upon deeper contemplation, knocked her out of her good humor. Rose had not even thought of the possibility of Jimmy having some of the reprobates from his band helping him ambush her! Involuntarily, Rose began to nervously look around for any phantom enemies. Reading as much off of Rose’s expression and body language, Andred took the imitative. He signaled for his second-in-command to come over and whispered to him some curt instructions.

“I am afraid that I have to go now, Miss...”

“Rose.” Rose filled in the blank automatically without thinking.

“Miss Rose,” Andred smiled and continued his previous thought, “I am seeing to business which cannot be delayed any further. But my men here will provide you with something warm to eat, protection and/or an armed escort to anywhere you wish to go.” He then turned to a still weeping Jimmy on the ground.

“As for this sniveling creature, he has attacked someone under the protection of the Captain of the Guard, albeit under his protection retroactively… But are not all citizens in the Citadel’s borders under the Guard’s protection?” He smiled to Rose. He then, more for Rose’s sake, for it was obvious that in his whispers to his men earlier that the order was already been given. “Lock that man up to stand trial for assault charges on a protected citizen of the Chancellery Guard and possible espionage. Although I am sure that the last one will be dropped after a long, terrifying read of the possible repercussions for such a charge, due to lack of evidence, naturally.” Andred concluded. The guards then gathered up the semiconscious Jimmy to carry him off to be booked. “Oh, and do make sure that the physician on call gets a look at him before you lock him in for the night. Unlike him, we are not cruel monsters.” Andred added. “Oh, is there anything you would like to say before the prisoner is carted off?” Andred inquired of Rose, wanting her to have the power of the last word in all of this. Rose looked at the heap of a man who barely stood before her who could not meet her eyes. For a brief moment, Rose thought on everything this despicable man had ever done to her and had ever taken from her. He took so much that Rose finally woke up to the truth about him when she had nothing left to give. Nothing left and so the only thing that Jimmy wanted was to utterly ruin her life. Now that would never happen and Jimmy was inconsequential to her. Although the shadow of the memories of what he did do to her in her past life would always haunt her like a bad dream… Such fitful visions could no longer physically harm her anymore. She was free of him. But did she have anything left to say to this pathetic man who was nothing to her now?

“No, I have nothing to say to him. I wouldn’t even give him the time of day.” Rose said evenly but smiling, borrowing the words of a kind, giant man from earlier that day. Andred smiled brightly and seemed impressed with Rose’s reply. He then bowed to her and headed off on his mission.

Rose was still a bit in awe as the captain made his exit. Now she recognized him! That was indeed Andredaselus of the House of Redlooms! The man had been long since dead by the time the Bad Wolf entity dumped her in the future, but she knew him by his uniform and his description from Romana’s stories! Rose was glad to see that Romana had not exaggerated anything about the man. Professional and kind. Rose laughed to herself, although Romana may have left out the part of him being a bit fit. Then again, it was not surprising since Romana never really had much of an opinion on anyone’s “fitness”. Rose called out her thanks to her rescuer as he moved out of sight and then she followed his other men into the guard station. Once there, Rose asked specifically to be put under Romana’s protection, begged an audience with her and present the sealed letter she wrote earlier that day. She may have also casually dropped a request to be called “Fred”.


	5. The Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Romana hurries back to her rooms to reunite with Rose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in my sleep-deprived haste to post a chapter the other day, I sort of skipped this chapter. Whoops. But luckily, no one seemed to notice...? ^_^;;;

After an interminable bout of time bidding goodbye to a number of politicians and diplomats, Romana finally left the ballroom. Normally, seeing long dead friends, or even enemies, would have been joyful, cathartic or hilarious event whilst armed with the future knowledge she possessed. However, she had just been too eager to see Rose again that she could not leave fast enough. With her shimmering skirts lifted as high as was decency allowed, Romana ran down the halls towards her private living quarters! 

Halfway there, Romana was seriously regretting not letting her security detail walk ahead of her. She was pretty sure she remembered the way to her rooms, but she was nervous she would take a wrong turn here and there. The place was like a maze. Finally reaching her rooms, Romana looked to make sure that no servants present. Satisfied, she eagerly called out.

“Rose! Are you here already? What’s this I hear about you being in danger this evening? It’s me, Romana, by the way.” Romana added her identity at the end, concerned that Rose might not recognize her voice, now raised a couple octaves higher than Rose was accustomed. Romana was often alarmed by her new, old voice coming out of her mouth. Romana soon received her answer about her friend’s presences when Rose promptly came through a door from one of the adjoining guest room. Rose looked younger. Mostly because she had a bit more baby fat on her than she did when they last met, but other than that Rose was recognizably Rose. Her on the other hand…

“Romana!” Rose gaped when she saw her. 

“I know it must be quite strange to see me like this. You probably don’t even recognize me without the white hairs and the deep lines.” Romana tried to laugh it off Rose’s stare.

“Romana, you look like a dream or a fairy queen in that gown…” Rose spoke with awe. Romana could not help but smile a bit at such compliments. Sweet Rose **would** sooner gasp at silken splendor than at a changed physical appearance. Romana could not believe just how quickly she let how dressed to the nines she was slip her mind. Rose had probably never seen attire such as this up close, even when she was still living in this more peaceful time. Romana laughed. Well all that was about to change, if she had anything to say about it.

“Yes, tomorrow we will have to see to it that you, sweet nymph, will have all the proper attire as befitting an attendant of a ‘fairy queen’. I fully intend to pass you off as my personal companion. I’ve never had one during my first time around here at the Citadel and now that I am on the marriage market, I will need a chaperone. And this works out splendidly as you will be able to go where I go without question.” smiled Romana conspiratorially. 

That was a great deal of information to take in all at once, but what stood out the most in Rose’s mind was…

“‘Marriage Market’?! I don’t think either of us has been back in the past for a day and you’re already looking for a husband, Romana?” Rose exclaimed. Romana laughed.

“Yes, I do see how that might not seem an essential part of the plan to change the future, but really it is. I have instructed Irving Braxiatel to seek my hand in marriage from my uncle, the king.” Rose gasped for the second time that evening.

“Isn’t that The Doctor’s deceased brother? I had no idea you two were ever sweet on each other. You never said.” Rose marveled.

“We weren’t, at least not on my end. I never knew he cared for me and I certainly never looked at Brax as potential life partner. Besides, it was already too late when he finally did express his...” Romana trailed off. Rose understood.

“The Doctor always said that his brother was very secretive…” Rose remarked sadly. The mood becoming too melancholy, Rose tried to perk things up. “But essentially ordering him to marry you, Romana? That’s pretty bold. I guess you must have found out you do have feelings for him after all, yeah? And now you’ve got a second chance.” Rose encouraged.

“We shall see.” was all Romana felt comfortable saying at the moment, “But at any rate, a courtship with Braxiatel will provide us the necessary excuse to be in the Lungbarrows’ constant company.” Romana concluded with a clearing of her throat. Rose was starting to suspect that it may have been more than just a desire to have unlimited access to their allies that made Romana essentially propose to Brax in such an underhandedly clever way. She longed to press Romana further on the matter, but at present, there was something more pressing Rose cared to know.

“So The Doctor is alive and well here? And we’ll see him again soon?” Rose asked hopefully. Romana smiled, happy to see real hope illuminate Rose’s features again. And maybe she was also glad to have the attention taken away from her budding romance… Oh, heavens, Romana was too old and too mature for this! These strange sensations she was feeling around this younger incarnation of Brax, it certainly could not be called something as juvenile as a “crush”! Romana pulled herself away from where her mind had just forced her to wander. She certainly would not squander Rose’s kindness in changing the subject if her own mind would pay her no such courtesy! They were decidedly discussing The Doctor now and not her confusing love life! To her eternal frustration, even so, she still could not escape the mentioning of Braxiatel.

“Yes, I have already requested that Braxiatel bring The Doctor to the Citadel. I imagine you will be in need of a lab assistant soon.” Romana playfully hinted towards the end. Rose laughed at this. Though it seemed like a bit of a cheat, what with her futuristic technological knowledge and the fact that she was taught by the man himself… Armed with that, Rose might just give this younger Doctor a run for his money. Oh, it did Rose’s heart such good that, as dire as their mission was, there still seemed to be a scope for amusement in this past.

“So just how soon will the old boy be here?” Rose asked eagerly.

“Not so old a boy now, Rose.” Romana laughed and then pondered on Rose’s question seriously. “Well, knowing Brax when given an order, it will not be long. But also knowing The Doctor, you will have to factor in a bit more time for him to arrive. Theta Sigma will drag his heels at the prospect of being torn away from his lab at Lungbarrow House just to go to the Capitol. He was a bit of a social recluse in his youth, if I recall properly.” Romana mused. Rose was a bit disappointed to hear of the likely delay. But if it meant seeing her dear friend returned safely from the dead, Rose could wait a couple extra days.

A small platoon of maids soon came in to help Romana and Rose prepare for bed. They were bathed, combed and moisturized within an uncomfortable inch of their lives.

“I don’t know if I will ever become accustomed to being so thoroughly cleansed every night again. Not after living most of my life in trenches…” muttered Romana as she sat in a silk robe and after her many attendants had left.

“Imagine what it’s like to be me, then? I have never been accustomed to pampering like this ever.--” Rose pointed out in an annoyed tone. Romana paused at that.

“Oh, Rose. I’m sorry. I must sound a spoiled—”

“--But I could get used to it!” Rose laughingly interrupted. Realizing how well Rose’s joke had tricked her, Romana had to hold back her giggles.

“Well, we best get to sleep. You have a long day of chaperoning ahead of you tomorrow, regardless whether or not Braxiatel pays us a visit.”

“You don’t think he’ll be eager to court his Lady?” Rose teased. Romana’s cheeks colored and Rose took pity on her, only asking one more thing of her. “Romana?”

“Yes, Rose?” Romana answered.

“Would it be all right if I stayed with you tonight? I’ve never slept in such a large room all by myself before. And certainly not a bed so big…” Rose looked back warily towards her chamber. Romana understood all too well and pulled back the cover on her monstrous bed to let her in.

“Certainly, Rose. But I would not be surprised if you will soon acclimate to having a humongous bed all to yourself.” Romana warned with a grin, secretly glad herself to have this impromptu sleepover. Romana had not stayed in such lonely accommodations in a long time either. In war, the smaller the sleeping space, the safer it felt. So naturally, Romana was not looking forward to sleeping in such a comparably vulnerable place as a stately bedroom on her first night back in the past. And now, she was worried about the safety of leaving Rose alone too. “Rose… I asked before,… But understandably, our peculiar reunion got us both a little distracted and you never answered me. The guards told me that you were at risk of harm earlier this evening. Should I be especially concern for your wellbeing here in the past?” Romana inquired.

“No, not anymore. I promise.” Rose smiled weakly, though it seemed more from fatigue than from lack in confidence of her own assurances. Rose could have left it at that. Andred would have surely handle the whole thing so that she would not have to worry again... Romana was her friend though, and she wanted her to be focused on the enemies in their past that really did pose a threat. “Good, ol’ Captain Andred sorted him out. He even gave me a chance to have the last word, but today I ran into my old ex-boyfriend, well, old ex-ex-boyfriend now, I suppose. We landed in a time before I ran off with Jimmy and had my life messed up for a bit…” Rose confessed. 

Romana really paused at that. Yes, like Rose had said earlier and as Romana had observed from her own experience tonight, this bizarre situation could truly be the gift of a “second chance”, a do-over of the past… However, that did not mean that she would not still be burdened with the gruesome memories of a live she would never lead. Poor, Rose was the same. She would still have to remember having received abuse that no one, least of all her, deserved. And upsettingly, from the sound of it, had Andred not intervened, Rose may have still experienced that abuse all over again! Chilling… Romana was feeling half guilty now for intentionally failing to warn Andred not to challenge Leela before he went off to retrieve the Sevateem warrior.

“I’ll have to see to it that Lord Andred is promoted when he gets back…” Romana said mostly to herself. The pair talked a bit more on more pleasant topics after that and had a surprisingly nice, relaxing time doing it too. Feeling truly safe in each other’s company, Rose and Romana soon afterwards fell asleep.


	6. The Dash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both of the Lungbarrow Lads now seem to have their ladies' assignments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel better GK! <3

The Doctor was running. He was always running in this part of the dream… Fruitlessly he was trying to keep up with her as she dashed between the trees. In the darkness of the dense, moonlit forest around Lungbarrow House, sometimes he only knew she was there from the peals of joyous laughter. He was not sure if she was laughing with him or at him, but he did not much care. Her laughs were like soothing music as they echoed through the trees. And yet at times, these unconventional songs had something forlorn about them like that of the howling of a lone wolf… No, a shewolf… He wondered often why that image would enter his mind, but at the moment, the only thing that he truly cared to think about was how he was going to try to catch up with her this time. He had failed so many times before and he knew that it would not be much longer before the dream ended. He wished he could somehow cut her off by following her through the trees and foliage, he daresay a child of Lungbarrow knew these forest better than her. Sadly, it did not seem possible to reach her a moment sooner than it was time. Although she seemed to navigate through unscathed, in this dream version of the forest, the trees were, as well as ground, were covered in an ever crawling briar of red roses. She was virtually blocked off from him by fences of prickly thorns. Although she could weave and move as she liked, he, poor, weary traveler, would have to follow the clear and slow path.

Here it came, the clearing where she was always waiting with her hand extended out to him. No longer in the shadows of trees, he could almost perfectly see her face in the moonlight. Although, he might argue her smile outshined that heavenly orb and her luminous features required no aid from it. They would sit down in a bed of ferns, with the sent of roses off in the distance and all around them. He would point out constellations to her and tell a combination of real and made up stories regarding them for her amusement. She in return, would make witty comments on all his experiments and other projects he was working, somehow knowing all about them. Tonight’s dream was different though, this time she gentle guided his head down into her lap. If he was anywhere but in a dream, it would have made him feel slightly out of his depths. He had never done such a this before and yet, she stroked his chestnut curls in such a strangely familiar way… It felt like the most natural thing in the world to him. 

His amber-eyed lady was eerily silent, but he waited patiently for her to speak again. The Doctor was content enough with her tender touch while idly taking in their surroundings. The rose scent seemed closer to the clearing than usual. Even the roses themselves, though unchanged from their usual shades of pinks and yellows, were nearer as well. No matter. If the roses got any closer, maybe she would just have to hold him faster, he mused to himself. More time past and his anxious desire to hear her voice again grew along with the creeping roses. However, when she finally did speak, it was just as much a balm and it was a bane.

“I can no longer see you again like this, my Doctor.” she said softly as the roses grew closer still.

“Have I finally bored you, my nameless lady?” He jested, still not concerned about the flowers’ literal growing proximity. If she, the mistress of this dream world, was not concerned, why should he be?

“I do have a name.” She replied as she absentmindedly tried to stroke down one of his untamable locks.

“One that I have not yet been privy to.” The Doctor reminded her sweetly.

“That is only because once I tell you, things will be set in motion again and I cannot take it back once given.” she warned as the roses began to surround in a way that The Doctor was now having trouble ignoring, but he made his best effort. 

“What is your name Mildred or Bertha? I assure you, if the lady wishes to reveal her name that I find none of those names as distasteful as you may fear.” The Doctor laughed a bit to release the tension her more serious tone was having on him and the air. She leaned down close barely a breath’s distance from his ear and whispered.

“I am the Bad Wolf.”

“What?” The Doctor puzzled at the strange name, but then the dream started to fade in a flood of now blood red roses petals, but not before “the Bad Wolf” gave him her final warning.

“You better come and find me this time, Doctor. Or I will have to find you in the future again.” The Doctor did not even have time to question that odd string of words before his eyes shot open and body shot up! The Doctor panted heavily before collapsing back onto his bed in his massive room at Lungbarrow House. The Doctor looked at his atomic clock against the wall, his own design, and saw that it was far too early. He signed and decided that he may as well get up and get back to work. He did not feel like going back to sleep again tonight. He had a foreboding feeling that he would not dream of his rosy maiden in the moonlight again.

Unbeknownst to The Doctor, his disrupted sleep was actually quite convenient for others and soon himself as well. A message to Lungbarrow House was waiting for him in his lab. Braxiatel knew as well as Romana that unless his brother’s curiosity was peaked, he would delay leaving his scientific sanctuary at Lungbarrow’s haunted halls for as long as possible. So Braxiatel prepared accordingly in so many words, or rather, in so few. Theta Sigma, The Doctor, nearly fell out of his chair when he examined his brother’s most recent, and by far most unusual, addition to their infrequent brotherly correspondence. It read: 

“Brother, I will soon be wed and am in need of your immediate presence at the Citadel. I have been informed that, should you be so kind as to hastily relocate your laboratorial facilities at Lungbarrow to the Capitol, Lady Romanadvoratrelundar shall see to it that your every research need is accommodated. If asked, do come to Arcadia under the pretense of searching for a new lab assistant. As you go through them so frequently, no one shall question your having to expand your recruitment radius after exhausting the local population of scientifically inclined minds. Yours, etcetera, Irving Braxiatel.”

“I’m sorry, what?” The Doctor stuttered aloud and half insulted. He did not even know where to begin unpacking that letter written more like a brief memo! Ugh, and The Doctor just knew he could never hope to get more details out his brother without going to the bloody Capitol! He hated going to the Capitol. The thought of having to associate with all those backstabbing lords as he watched them intermittently sneer at him and his ruined family line as they all tried to outdo each other in their fawning displays of obsequiousness towards the royals… No thanks! …But his brother knew that he knew that, in spite of all that, Theta Sigma could not leave a mystery alone. 

The Doctor sighed as he leaned both his hands on one of this laboratory’s many tabletops, deep in thought. He doubted he could ever be convinced to move his entire lab to the Capitol for any reason... However, he certainly could take a very brief trip to the Citadel to see who in the world his brother could have induced into marriage! Although Brax had mentioned her in his letter, it could not possibly be Romana… That was for certain! But, then again, why else would he mention her in his letter in the first place? Perhaps his choice of bride was a favorite of the noble lady? That made a bit of sense. To please the bride-to-be, Romana would allow Brax the means to entice his wayward brother to the Capitol all the faster for the wedding ceremony. But really, Irving Braxiatel, a married man? The man who never showed even the slightest interest in marrying was now so eager to have his annoying, little brother share in the festivities of his wedded bliss? If it was not distinctly his brother’s calmly scrawled handwriting, The Doctor might have thought it a clever ruse of some enemy to draw him outside of Lungbarrow House. At any rate, The Doctor reasoned that solving this peculiar marriage mystery and satisfying his curiosity was at least worth a slight delay in his research. He safely secured whatever he could not take with him on his journey and immediately headed out to Arcadia.

It was well near ten o’clock in the morning when Romana and Rose awoken. Both were, of course, surprised and not surprised that they had slept in so late. Being at a constant threat of being murdered by daleks, oversleeping was a luxury they never could really afford… However, after having such an unimaginable exhausting day as yesterday, their bodies must have needed the rest. That being said, Romana still wanted to make the most out of each day. They both scrambled to prepare for the day and were ready, with the help of Romana’s attendants, within the hour. They were both grandly dressed thanks to the lending of some of Romana’s more “understated” frocks to Rose. She did not want to make it too obvious Rose was wearing her hand-me-downs. Romana would have to get the royal tailor in and have a private fitting session for Rose. If not the royal tailor, maybe there was a talented tailor out there who could arrange for some fashionable trouser suits to be incorporated into their wardrobe as well. Romana was so out of practice with skirts and some of these dresses just were not practical.

A humongous breakfast was served right in Romana’s quarters and both ladies hoped that their younger bodies could manage such a large intake of food. If it were their older bodies, half starved, they knew for certainly such nutrition would have made them sick. Luckily, both of them seemed well-fed enough in this time to handle it. They were barely finished when a sealed letter was brought in by a maid from her uncle.

“Well, that did not take long. Glad to see that Braxiatel is just as efficient as ever.” Romana commented very causally as she opened the letter and read its contents. “My most noble uncle wishes for my presence in his private quarters within the hour…”

Romana frowned at this. For an audience with her uncle, they were now both pitifully underdressed. Meaning that the poor servants, who had already outdone themselves as far as Romana was concerned, would have to help them dress again just to look presentable for the day they now had ahead of them. What an unnecessary bother. Romana just hoped that she had the patience to play this game until she could save the future.

Once the dazzlingly dressed Romana and Rose arrived at the king’s apartments, Romana quickly assessed she was correct about what was going on when she spotted Braxiatel. He was staring out a large window onto the Capitol, just as formally attired as she. He looked like some sort of mythical hero in a fairytale come to rescue his princess as the rays of the late morning sun made a halo around his body. Romana tried not to blush at the implication that she was his princess. She also tried, but failed, to convince herself that her heart was pounding in excitement at how smoothly her brilliant plan was evidently going and not from seeing the elegant man who was an integral part of said plan. Unable to look away from him in this rare moment of catching him unawares, Romana was relieved when her uncle pulled her aside and spoke with her in hushed tones.

“Lady Romana, my dear. I have been in interesting council with Commander Braxiatel. And he has informed me that you are both quite eager to begin a formal courtship. Is this true?” he questioned. Romana could only nod, afraid that Braxiatel might hear her.

“Well, if that is the case, it would make my heart soar to see our two houses potentially joined. Perhaps the House of Lungbarrow and its surviving sons could finally throw off its more recently earned reputation... And once again be fully honored and recognized for its bravery, loyalty and dignity while serving of the crown.” The king confessed.

“With all due respect, Uncle. I believe that the House of Heartshaven is the party that has the honor and dignity to gain from the association.” Romana proudly suggested as she watched Braxiatel over her uncle’s shoulder. Her uncle paused for a moment at that statement and examined Romana’s features carefully. Evidently satisfied with what he did not find there, he nodded.

“Quite right too, Romana.” He spoke softly, yet uncomfortably. He then lifted his hand and signaled for Braxiatel to come over. Evidently the man had been giving Romana and the king their space to speak, which would explain why he did not greet her upon her entering the royal apartments. Goddess, she hoped that did not mean that he was perfectly aware of her quiet study of him the whole time! Ugh, knowing him, he probably did. At any rate, Romana, likewise, encouraged Rose to come over and join her and the king.

“My Lady, you are looking well this morning.” Braxiatel bowed with a gentle smile and a kiss to Romana’s hand.

“Only ‘well’?” teased the king, “Last night your description of my niece included such praises as—”

“Well, I would have said ‘ethereal’, but I did not wish to take liberties so soon into our courtship. Not without the Lady’s consent first, naturally.” Braxiatel interrupted as charmingly as he somehow always managed to do.

“All this time, you said he was a brilliant tactician, you never told me he was a smooth one too, Romana.” Rose teasingly whispered in amusement. Braxiatel must have indeed had exceptional hearing because his next comment indicated that he definitely heard Rose.

“So My Lady’s mentions of my virtues have outlasted at least one day. This is a most pleasing development, Miss…?” Braxiatel noted, turning his full attention to Rose and waiting for her to fill in the blank.

“Rose. Rose Tyler. I’m her ladyship’s personal companion and **chaperon**.” Rose smiled apologetically about the last job title. Braxiatel seemed to take it all in stride though. 

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Tyler.”

“Please, call me ‘Rose’, Lord Braxiatel.” Rose smiled.

“Oh, then you need not include my title within our small group of friends either, Rose.” Braxiatel smiled enchantingly before switching the subject entirely. “Well, ladies, it will soon be noon, which is why I arranged to have a picnic lunch prepared just outside the city limits, if you are amiable. The gardens and parks are quite lovely this time of year.”

“My, how wholesome! I’ll be sure to have your security detail escort you all out of the city.” exclaimed the king, quite pleased. Romana gave Braxiatel a sidelong look. Well, now she understood why someone as creative as him had picked such a predictable outing in a courtship. It was all to present himself in the best possible light to the king. It was most certainly working, for she was sure that her uncle was more excited for her about such an outing than either her or Braxiatel.

“No need, Your Highness. I shall provide Lady Romana and her attendant with protection. We won’t stray outside the area of the watchtower anyway.” Braxiatel replied. The king paused a moment at that and then laughed.

“Ah, yes. My apologies, you are such a good politician that there are times when I forget just how decorated a soldier you are, Braxiatel. I’ll just have Romana’s security detail wait around the watchtower to escort you back through the city on your homecoming.” The king amended. He then bided the three of them goodbye.

“Well, I must be going. I have my annual medical examination to get to this afternoon and Dr. Jones doesn’t like it when I’m late.” He joked, “Rose, it has been nice meeting you. I hope it does not make me a bad uncle to say, but Romana has never been one to have many friends. The fact that she wishes you to be her lady’s companion means that you must be someone very dear to her and so I already hold you in the highest regard. Have a nice outing.” That would have been it, but Romana stopped him.

“Uncle.” Romana almost urged.

“Yes, Romana, my dear?” the king replied confused.

“I know you have a tendency to forgo a thorough examination. This time, please do not.”

“Now, Romana. I’m as fit at a --” The King tried to reassure her.

“Please. I insist.” Romana pleaded. Something about the way she said it caught both the king and Braxiatel’s attention.

“Well, all right. But when we see it was all for not, and my time was wasted, I will insist you make it up to me with a rousing night of three dimensional chess.” He warned good-naturedly. Romana promised that she most certainly would if nothing came of it and both parties parted ways. Braxiatel walked along side Romana and waited for her to say something and when she did not, Braxiatel pried. With Rose on Romana’s other side, he whispered to her.

“Would My Lady mind informing her most humble servant what that was all about?” Braxiatel asked concernedly, but tried to sound lighthearted about it.

“Brax, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you…” Romana muttered under her breath as she moved along.

“Try me.” he challenged and Romana sort of jolted in surprise that he had heard her. Had she truly forgotten how good her Brax’s hearing was despite years of tinnitus inducing dalek battles? Well this Braxiatel looked at her half expectantly, but Romana was too apprehensive to say anything without her whole “future” team assembled first.

“I am sorry, Braxiatel. I promise I will tell you all soon.”

“Then I shall wait. But please, again, do call me ‘Irving’.”

“It is too dangerous to do that all the time.” Romana half teased.

“There is nothing I would do if My Lady did not wish it, were I to hear it.” Braxiatel promised with a roguish smile.

“And that’s what scares me.” Romana said more to herself than him.

The trip through town was uneventful other than everyone exchanging their formal attire for something more inconspicuous. Rose and Romana swapped silk gowns for cotton and cloaks. Braxiatel was similarly attired, but with leather armlets and boots a bit thicker than the ladies’. His weapon by his side, which was anything but concealed, paired with shoulder armor, made a most intentionally imposing picture. 

Romana made another study of watching this roguishly transformed man, whenever she thought he was not looking. Luckily, it seemed she could indulge quite often in the fine sight of him since he was taking his role as their bodyguard quite seriously. Although he did keep the conversation going throughout their trip, Braxiatel was carefully surveying their surroundings and only occasionally looking directly at Romana. One could have just mistaken him for a vigilant huntsman or infantryman on holiday instead of a highly trained commander. The wilderness environment as they left the city limits and the more rustic townships certainly aided in anyone drawing that conclusion about Braxiatel’s rank and lower position. But, no.

‘That regal, irritatingly handsome face of his would give his standing away…’ Romana mused to herself. Wait. Romana surprised herself. Yes, she had eyes and always knew that Brax was a decent looking specimen of his sex, but never had that been in the foreground of her thoughts as much as it has in the past day! Could she blame it on not being used to the hormones of this younger body of hers or something logical like that? Heavens, she hoped so! How bothersome it would be to deal with his already inflated ego if he knew she was having such scandalous thoughts about him so “early” on into their new relationship.

Romana tried to stay focus on her priorities though. She could sort out her present situation with this Braxiatel when she could secure that he has a bright future. Braxiatel did not know it yet, but his vastly out-of-character (yet completely in character for how much it wowed her uncle) suggestion on a picnic was a perfect excuse for Romana to visit the watchtower. She needed to instruct the guards there on things they were to watch out for in the future. That way she might know just how soon Skaro started plotting her home’s demise.

The picnic looked like something dreamt up in a fairytale and Romana was decidedly impressed by the extent he would go to carry out her order to seriously court her. There was a huge picnic lunch was set up under a flowering tree and it was even by a babbling brook! The elegant piece of fabric that was serving as a picnic blanket was spread out gorgeously over the lush grass. Upon it sat pillows, diverting games, baskets filled with food, pyramids of fruit on plates and a lute! There was even a bloody tent with chairs and a table off to the side if the weather turned! Rose and Romana were impressed. Whoever Braxiatel hired to arrange this masterpiece certainly outdid themselves and smug Braxiatel knew it.

“This s’beautiful!” Rose exclaimed, the spell of astonishment breaking on her first. No longer content to stare at the lovely scene, Rose frolicked over to the blanket to sit down under the blossoms. Rose’s companion was not so lucky. Romana was frozen in place for such a span of time that Braxiatel actually took the initiative and outstretched his hand to her. 

“Shall we, My Lady?” he invited, looking every bit the dashing noble he was. It really was starting to hit Romana now. This marriage was really going to happen. Not just for the duration of her plan, but possibly the rest of her life and to a man who was proving to have such a strange power over her. It was unnerving and yet frustratingly exciting. Defeated, she reached out and let him take her hand. As he took her hand though, Romana was suddenly struck with a memory. One of another him from another time, only then his hand was much paler and colder… Romana drew her hand back as if terrified taking it would make that future a reality again! She spun around on her heels, much easier to do in boots on grass than those cursed heel from the night before, and away from the macabre visions that the sight of him invoked. It was at least fortunate that directly behind her, off in the near distance was the watchtower, her convenient excuse to step away.

“Um, yes, I thank you, Braxiatel. But I first have to run over to the watchtower first. The trip was, a bit of a hike, if you will excuse the unintended pun, and I would like to freshen up.” Romana exclaimed quite quickly.

“Yes, of course. How inconsiderate of me… Not to have taken My Lady and Rose there first.” Braxiatel apologized, though Romana was almost sure she heard a tone of hurt in his voice at her perceived rejections. Romana cringed inwardly. Oh! And she even forgot to call him by his preferred name... As if her unintended brush-off was not obvious enough! She wanted to explain herself now, but she could not trust her emotions to do so intelligently, let alone believably at the moment. No, she would just have to make it up to Braxiatel later when she was certain he would be safe or at least her head was clearer. 

Braxiatel, never a man of inaction, called out to Rose. Romana half suspected he did this as it was painfully obvious to such a keen observer as Braxiatel that that Lady Romanadvoratrelundar, the woman so detached she was called the Ice Maiden, was disturbed by something. And whatever it was that rendered her into such a state, he did not want Romana to be without a confidant. Considerate, but quite the hindrance at the moment when all Romana wanted was to be alone with her thoughts.

“Would all the ladies like to make a quick trip to the watchtower too?” Braxiatel inquired toward Rose’s direction. Rose, knowing nothing of Romana’s traumatic moment, thank heaven for small favors, just smiled.

“I’m fine, Lord Braxiatel. Maybe later.” Rose projected back, sure to use his formal title with soldiers possibly in earshot of a good, projected voice. Seeing that Romana already had her security detail moving from the watchtower to greet her, Braxiatel only waited for as long as it took all parties involved to bridge the gap between them. Romana in arguably adequate hands, Braxiatel moved to sit on the blanket near Rose. He immediately removed his cloak, as Rose had before, and most of his armor. Although, as he did so, he still looked back, almost longingly in Rose’s estimation, in the direction that Romana had disappeared. 

Romana now truly gone from sight, Braxiatel picked up the aforementioned lute and absentmindedly started plucking a tune on the instrument. It was not a happy tune to suit the pleasant surrounding, but it was still pretty and Rose enjoyed it. Despite her enjoyment, Rose felt a bit sad that he seemed to derive no real joy from the action. As he played, Rose partly divided her attention from the tune for the pursuit of studying the musician. Braxiatel was turning out to be quite a bit of a complicated equation. Rose had barely known him a couple hours and he was already nothing like she imaged, right down to being musically inclined. Rose had, of course, expected a loyal, dutiful solider as Romana described. When Romana told her, the very same day they had come back to the past, that the younger Braxiatel had agreed to marry her, Rose fully suspected that the great, gallifreyan strategist was simply doing that, strategizing. Just a logical man who was only too detachedly eager to take advantage of the opportunity to join his noble house to Romana’s superiorly higher one. Such cold ambition was not what Rose believed she was seeing in his carefully guarded features though.

“You really do love Romana, don’t you?” Rose marveled. “I mean, Romana always talked about you, but she never told me you were sweet on her.” Braxiatel did not answer, but Rose really did not expect him to. She knew she was being rude enough as it was, maybe even potentially cruel… But Rose just needed to know what kind of piece they had added to the chessboard when Romana brought Braxiatel into their “future” war game. Wow, The Doctor’s inability to leave well enough alone in the pursuit of knowledge had really worn off on her over the years. Rose began to wonder if maybe she should just stick to science instead of matters of the heart.   
“How could she know what I feel when I have never said? And I fear because of that, she may never allow me.” Braxiatel replied, finally breaking his silence. Rose was going to reassure him that that was an unlikely outcome. Braxiatel must have anticipated though, because he never gave Rose that chance. “Well, enough of this dour tune. I believe I still remember a couple more pleasant melodies.” Braxiatel then started up an easygoing and far more upbeat song. Little did any of the trio know that the intricate love story forming around Braxiatel and Romana was about to become far more complicated.


	7. The Misunderstanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor comes to the Capitol and it is not an immediate picnic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween Update!

The Doctor was a brilliant man, but he had many little weaknesses too. One of them being making ridiculous challenges for himself. He did it when he was a child at the Academy and decided he would go scrumping for apples off the highest tree branches in his professor’s private garden. He did it when he decided to see how little he needed to sleep before he found a cure for a blight that was ravishing the land in a neighboring land. And he did it now in challenging himself to reach the Capitol as soon as it was physically possible. He went by road, cutting through mountain passes and then he hitched a ride on a merchant ship. His most clever bit being when he swapped that ship out for a fishing vessel. By doing that, he shave off a great deal of time being able to go up the small, narrow river once he arrived in Arcadia’s distant harbor. The results: he made a two day road trip in a little over twelve hours and maybe cheated and made a ship captain very happy by improving her ship’s best clocking speed. 

So now, here he was taking a leisurely stroll following a brook up to that spire of a watchtower and with any luck, his brother. As a soldier, even the high ranking ones like Braxiatel, they often made trips to that structure. The Doctor reasoned that it could be likely for him to run into Braxiatel there. If not, then The Doctor could, at the very least, get a ride back to the Citadel from any of the soldiers stationed there. AND the soldiers would do it all without half the gossip and attention that he expected a nobleman, such as himself, would receive upon entering into town for the first time in more than half a decade!

The Doctor turned a bend, though the river had long since turned into a brook, and then he heard and saw it! Just as his brilliant mind predicted: his brother! His ego thoroughly stroked, The Doctor realized that it was not just his brother he was seeing… It was his stodgy, stuffy brother, in informal clothing, playing a string instrument and all while having a bloody picnic with a young, long-haired, blonde maiden! And was said maiden singing along with him?! The Doctor stood stunned. Dear Gods. Brax actually had found someone he wished to marry and apparently the experience HAD made some unrecognizable changes in the man… 

Braxiatel was the first to notice The Doctor out of the impromptu pair of musicians. Braxiatel nodded a greeting, but sort of left it up to The Doctor to engage with him further. The elder Lungbarrow did not even put down his lute or stop playing his whimsical song. The Doctor just figured that “guilty dogs run” and this was just a decent defense on Brax’s part. After all, if Brax did not act embarrassed to show he had other, artistic interests outside of politics and war strategy, The Doctor could not tease him. Although, the jury was still out if he could still mock his brother known for his refined taste for strumming a catchy popular song. Then again, The Doctor certainly would not make a good first impression with his future sister-in-law if the first thing he did was make fun of the music she seemed to like. And besides, it would make The Doctor a hypocrite if he teased since he was fond of the ditties of Billie the Piper too. He would have to withhold sibling teasing, at least on this subject.

Rose Tyler was a delight to play for and Braxiatel was really beginning to like Rose outside of Romana’s good opinion of her. She would clap along, her time signatures were perfect, which any musician appreciated in an audience, and heavens, how the young lady could sing! Her voice lacked the polish of a trained singer, but it was still quite pleasing to listen to and pretty. Then Braxiatel noticed his brother coming up the brook path. Well, far be it from Braxiatel to make a songstress like Rose stop singing because they now had his little brother for an audience. So Braxiatel acknowledged his brother, but kept on playing. As expected, his brother approached them and it was only when The Doctor put down his bag at the end of the song that Rose noticed the strange man standing at the edge of the blanket behind her. Rose started at his unexpected presence, but Braxiatel just began introductions as if he had not noticed.

“Rose, my dear, I would like you to meet my brother, Lord Theta Sigma Lungbarrow.” Braxiatel said casually. The Doctor paused somewhat at her name, having so recently dreamt about a woman surrounded by so many roses. Recognizing his halted state, The Doctor quickly pushed aside the thoughts of his ever wandering mind, for fear of being rude.

“Please, call me ‘The Doctor’. My, you have a beautiful voice—” The Doctor started but never finished his sentence as Rose turned around and he was met with the literal rose of his dreams. …And she was his brother’s fiancée… No, this was nothing akin to a dream. This was a nightmare! The Doctor felt a loss and a pain in his chest that he could not mask. A feeling like unexpectedly stepping into thin air just before lurching downwards into a bottomless chasm! His incredible rose in the briars, his Bad Wolf was to marry his brother! Was this what his dream mistress meant when she said that he had to hurry up and find her? But was he already too late? Then, remembering she was just a dream, though a very lucid one, and The Doctor felt disgusted with himself. He had not seen his brother in ages and finally when Brax had reached out to him again, the first thing The Doctor did was literally covet a woman who he had no claim on and was to be his future sister! Had he finally gone mad toiling away in laboratories for so many years? Was he truly that wretched and lonely to be reduced to this? He staggered a bit on his heels and he slumped down to the grass beneath him. His movement alarmed Rose as recognition overtook her and the horrible remembrance of how her Doctor had slumped down the last time she had seen him haunted her vision.

“Doctor!” Rose gasped. “Are you all right?” She got up and immediately reached out to help him. The Doctor leaned away from her touch. He did not know how his sanity would hold if he were to finally touch his dream in the waking world.

“No!” he urged, but then changed his harsh tone to a much more reasonable volume and cadence. “No need to fuss over me, dear sister. I think that I am just a bit tired and hungry from my hasty journey.” The Doctor lied. His stomach was actually in knots, which was why he immediately regretted his deception when Rose quickly handed his a plate filled to the brim with food. Rose’s mind was so preoccupied with keeping her dearest, dead friend alive that nothing else seemed to register in his mannerism. Not his words, not the fact that she was now a stranger to her best friend and definitely not his thirty-years-younger-face. A face who’s owner, at this moment, was trying terribly hard to power through and conceal his troubled stomach’s horrible urge to vomit.

“Brax, how rude of me. I would like to congratulate the two of you on your impending nuptials.” The Doctor tried to sound and to be as happy for the couple as he could.

“It is a bit early for that yet, Doctor. As of the moment, Irving and I are only courting.” replied Romana’s authoritative voice from just out of view from The Doctor’s plate he was trying not to drop. 

“A technicality which I intend to rectify at My Lady’s earliest wish.” Braxiatel added, emboldened by her use of his requested name again and maybe, irrationally, the fact that she had not been scared off back to the Citadel. At any rate, Romana did not comment or correct his bold statement. Braxiatel thought that that fact was probably encouraging. 

Romana had come back because she had, quite more quickly than her calming nerves had hoped, settled her business at the watchtower, which was mainly providing instructions to its staff. Romana instructed them, with the proper omissions, to keep an eye out on all the known roads and areas that the distance nation of Skaro used when they first invaded Gallifrey in her abandoned timeline. She told them how often she wanted updates on and to standard protocols. Above all she wanted these reported back to her daily. Only too eager to please a potential future queen of their nation, the staff was happy to comply. Romana then headed back towards the picnic, just in time to see a rather confused looking and exhausted Doctor congratulating the wrong woman on her felicity. 

The Doctor’s smart head was really smarting now, Romana could tell. He looked to Rose, his brother and then to Romana helplessly.

“I beg your pardon…What?” He questioned, tripping over his tongue. “Brax, then you are not marrying… Rose?”

“Heavens, no! Please do not misunderstand me, Miss Rose. I am certain that any individual would be lucky to have you for their bride. But as you know, I was already well spoken for long before I had the honor of meeting you.” Braxiatel said half in jest in maybe an attempt to lighten the mood that the Doctor’s incorrect assumptions had created. 

Romana could not help but be flustered a bit at Braxiatel’s statement about being spoken for “long before” meeting Rose. How terrifyingly promising… Braxiatel had only declared his “feelings” to her uncle, by her own order, last night and had met Rose only the following morning. And if he was not being the perfect coconspirator she suspected him to be right now… It contributed to her theory that his first, fluttering feelings for her were not born long after the course of many years fighting dalek. 

Remembering herself, Romana could see that Braxiatel was curious as to why his brother seemed more pleased about his not marrying Rose than he was about his marrying Romana. Braxiatel looked as though he wanted to ask, but Romana interrupted his inquiries with both words and a look.

“Doctor, since I know you are looking for a new laboratory assistant…” Romana began. The Doctor mentally noted that, for whatever reason Braxiatel wanted that false pretense for his coming to be circulated, Romana must have been in on it too or perhaps the idea’s source. “May I do you one better and present to you a lab **partner** , Miss Rose Marion Tyler. I can personally vouch that Rose was trained by the absolute best and will be an asset in your research.” Considering it was The Doctor who trained Rose, Romana could not help but smirk. However, her mischievous grin did not last long enough to allow The Doctor to process or question her words. “Now, Doctor, if you still think it necessary to interview Rose, I have some important matters to discuss with Irving in private.” Romana said with authority that The Doctor did not question and Braxiatel definitely did not question. If Braxiatel’s Intended intended for him to have a private chat with him in a private space and after so liberally using his chosen name, who was he to object? Romana headed inside the tent and Braxiatel was right behind her.

Being alone with “Rose” for the first time was so familiar and yet so alien to The Doctor. He had dreamed about her for so long, talked with her on so many subjects and yet he knew nothing about the woman sitting in front of him. All he knew now was that he had somehow, against both probability and insanity, found her, like the Bad Wolf had instructed and she was not marrying his brother. So now what? He most certainly could not mess up his new, real-life acquaintance with her! Or else this time, the privilege of having moonlit rendezvouses with her would truly be nothing more than an unfulfilled dream. Rose cleared her throat and picked up some food to eat to try to relieve the awkwardness as he continued to look at her but said nothing. The Doctor could not believe it… She even pushed her hair back behind her ear the same way she did in his dreams! It distracted him further until he finally heard Rose clear her throat again.

“So, Lady Romana… you are friends with her, then?” The Doctor said stupidly in a rushed and weak attempt at polite conversation.

“Uh, yeah. I’ve known her for quite a bit of time and I’m her Lady’s Companion now… Unless you take me on as your lab partner, that is...” Rose stumbled over her words and failing not to sound too overeager. Poor Rose was just as flustered as The Doctor, but for a much different reason. The last time she had seen The Doctor, he was a kind, but world-weary, battle-worn, old man and also, quite dead. She so wanted to hug her kindly, old mentor-turned-partner in relief that he was not in this moment murdered by daleks. That was not the man she was presented with though, not her Doctor. This Doctor, in his thirties at best, was a vibrant, albeit a drop morose at first meeting, individual who had never been her friend and had none of their shared experiences. Moreover, he was an adorable, kind, kind of nerdy and a devastatingly gorgeous bloke! What was she supposed to do with that realization?!? 

Rose had never even considered the possibility of failing to recapture their original team dynamic because she found herself almost distractedly attracted to The Doctor’s past self! And if all went according to Romana’s plans, she would be working very closely with THIS man for the “un”foreseeable future?! She was going to have to work doubly hard not to let on she had these new feeling. The poor man did not know her and her silly, young mind already has designs on him! She must not let herself see The Doctor in any other light than a colleague. The more Rose thought about this daunting task and how drawn she was finding herself to this handsome man, with whom she must have a platonic relationship, the more silent she became. This was bad for both parties in this conversation because now they were both just sitting there awkwardly in silence. 

The Doctor, slightly terrified he was making her first impression of himself worse and realizing that Rose was not going to speak anymore, finally hastened to fill the silent void. Especially considering that, now that he thought on it, she had all but implied that she had a backup plan because she was not convinced he was sold on taking her on as a collaborator! That could not be anywhere further from the truth!

“Um, yes, lab partner. I’m looking for a new one. And I am indeed impressed with Romana’s glowing review of you. Romana has only been out of the Academy for a short period of time, and I thought I knew all her classmates from her Academy days. So I assume that you made a stellar impression on her a bit more recently?” The Doctor said very unassumingly. Rose saw right through it, she knew when the Doctor’s brilliant mind was deducting, trying to solve her like a puzzle. Rose knew that The Doctor knew that, sadly, Romana did not have any real friends at the Academy. And if Rose did not go to the Academy…

“No, I’m not of the noble class and I’ve spent a good chunk of my life working in garment shops.” Rose offered, setting the record straight and to see how her plebian status sat with him. She knew that The Doctor always said that class distinction was irrelevant, but that was in times of war. A title meant nothing if you were on the wrong end of a dalek’s blast, everyone died then. How would this younger Doctor feel about societal standing? Her working in a shop again yesterday, after years in a war zone, sort of reminded her how class distinction was very much alive and well in the past. As kind as her old Doctor was to her, he might have had to learn to be more egalitarian further down the timeline before meeting her anomalous self. 

Worst came to worst and The Doctor’s past self turned out to be a classist tosser, being upfront about her social status would spare her the embarrassment of him thinking a lowly woman like her was interested in him… Because she would cease to have any interest in him at all! Wow, this reunion had taken a rather unexpected turn for Rose... She always held The Doctor in the highest esteem, but now she was doubting this version of him and trying to see if this Doctor measured up to the old one. She would have thought for the sake of her old Doctor, she would have tried to be friends with and give this younger version of him Doctor the benefit of the doubt. The Doctor had trained her too well though to ask the tough question, even if she might not like the answer. So now, come what may, Rose waited patiently for The Doctor to share his thoughts on her meager beginnings.

“Working fulltime in shops and you still managed to advance in your academic studies so far as to catch the attention of Lady Romana? That’s brilliant!” The Doctor cheered, catching Rose off guard as he smiled in the same bright manner he always did whenever he looked at her… Beaming at her like she was something special. Even thirty years down the timeline, in either direction, that remained unchanged. Still, there was something a little different about it this time around. Rose oddly found that she could not help but blush, though she hardly understood why. Perhaps her silly, younger heart in her chest dared not to wonder why. So much for asking the tough questions. Fearing that his cheeks might catch on fire if he silently smiled at her any longer, Rose spoke again.

“Thanks. S’nice to hear your accomplishments recognized.”

“I’m a scientist. I am just stating the facts.” The Doctor declared. Rose could not help but laugh, a flattering reply like that was not helping her blush any less. He did not seem to be expecting her to laugh either, but seemed to really enjoy hearing this unexpected reaction. His dopey smile just kept growing bigger and bigger the more she laughed. 

“Doctor, you haven’t eaten anything yet and you said you felt weak from travel. Won’t you please have a bit of something to eat?” Rose insisted, trying to divert his intense attention away from her for just a moment until she could attempt acclimate to this new, smiley normal. The Doctor gave a bit of a start at his plate, forgetting he was holding it while in her captivating presence. His stomach still doing flips but for a much more pleasant reason now, he began to dig in. If it would please Rose, then it would be done in a second.

“Thank you, Rose Tyler.” Trying her name on his lips for the first time and liking the sound of it tremendously. “Now, if I am to be your new partner…” The Doctor began. Rose blushed at the distinction he was making, not seeing himself as a superior in the arrangement. “While I finish up my plate, perhaps you can tell me whatever I am to know about the life and accomplishments of my **future** colleague.” The irony was not lost on Rose.

Romana allowed herself to smile quite openly as she peaked out from the tent’s opening. She had had her trepidation about The Doctor being willing to work with Rose as a partner. He was quite proud and a bit of a loner when he was younger, but it looks like the pair was on track to becoming fast friends. Good. Now, all that she had left to be concerned about today was Braxiatel. She had hoped that she could have told everyone her plan once her team was fully assembled with the arrival of Leela. However, she just saw quite apparent evidence that if both brothers were in the dark for too long, things would get out of hand very quickly and emotions would run high. So Romana reasoned at length it best not to wait and to take in another confidant. On the bright side, though it would be unpleasant to recount her life story more than once with people who were under no obligation to believe her, perhaps The Doctor would be more inclined to believe her farfetched story if Braxiatel was already convinced and on board with it.

“I never thought you one to spy on couples.” teased Braxiatel rather dryly from slightly over her shoulder, certainly much closer than Romana was expecting. Romana tried not to appear startled and quipped back.

“Will I have to consider requesting the addition of a bell to your wardrobe during our courtship, Irving?”

“If My Lady wishes it.” he replied with an easy smile before getting down to business. “Now, unless My Lady finds something in my flirtations tediously lacking, I think there is another reason you insisted on my brother returning to the Capitol besides the fun of setting up a love match for your dear friends.” Romana noted that he kindly was leaving out the bit of an unusual scene she made earlier when he had offered her his outstretched hand. 

“Observant as always. And yes, a love match was the furthest from my thoughts. I had never even considered the possibility, considering the sizable age gap the last time they worked together.”

“ ‘Age gap’? I doubt there is little more than ten years between them.” Braxiatel dismissed and Romana could have sworn she heard a hint of defensiveness in his even tone. 

‘Ah, yes.’ Romana recalled to herself. There was a bit of an age gap between them too, was there not? Although, unbeknownst to him, the offending, aged years were more on her side now than his. How amusing. Oh, but Braxiatel was still speaking. “And as far as I can tell… Neither my brother nor Miss Rose have ever met before today, let alone worked together.”

“Actually, they have, Irving.” Romana sighed.


	8. Catch Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leela and Andred cross paths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To make up for the timey-wimey posting earlier... ^_^;;

Andred had been traveling light and quickly, taking very little breaks, but not to a point of recklessness. He was on the most direct road to the known settlements of the Sevateem in Mordee. If the weather kept, he should be spotting those leather clad warriors in a couple of days. Which was why he was quite surprised when a member of said warriors jogged out from the heavy brush and tree line along the side of the road! Had he grossly overestimated his time of arrival?

The Sevateem warrior was a woman with a large pack on her back, armed to the teeth with knives and other weapons. Her hair was on the longer side, brown and she had the most interesting eyes he had ever seen on an individual, so mahogany rich a brown that they were almost red in hue. Those eyes held him momentarily transfixed as they stared him down, almost as if she was looking into his soul. To dismiss the fanciful for the practical for a moment though, the warrior was obviously just summing him up as either friend or foe before she continued her travels. She was probably heading into the woods in the opposite side of the road when he happened along. At any rate, she must have liked what she saw in him because her analytical frown soon shifted into a beautifully stunning, toothy grin.

“Ah, you are one of the Chancellery Guards from the Capitol. I recognize your uniform from the old images Romana showed me.” Leela stated, most pleased. Whether Leela knew it or not, she now had Andred’s full attention.

“You speak of Lady Romanadvoratrelundar as if you are personally familiar with her.” Andred stated and paused to see how she might reply.

“I am, or I suppose that I will be. It is very strange this traveling backwards business.” Leela admitted, then slightly chastising herself for her old habit of saying more than she ought to cropping up again. But could one blame her? It had been so very strange! Leela has come to herself in the past, in the body of her youth with her tribe very much alive and intact. 

“Leela, you are not one to sleep in so late, are you unwell?” asked Neela, her voice sounding concerned. 

“I have some eggs I scavenged this morning, would you like me to scramble them for you?” questioned Sole kindly. …And evidently, Leela’s parents were still alive as well! Leela shot up from her raised sleeping mat and practically sprang to her feet on the dried clay tiled floor!

“Demons! I will not fall for your tricks!” shouted Leela as she held out her knife at the pretenders disguised as her long dead parents!

“She must have a fever upon her!” exclaimed her father, Sole.

“Leela, we only point knives in battle. Put your blade away. You must be unwell, for I cannot imagine any child of mine being so rude.” Neela scolded, though her tone lacked the condescension and urgency one would usually expect of a parent under such circumstances. That seemed to snap Leela out of it too. Only her mother could keep such a cool head in the face to danger. Leela sheathed her knife and sat back down on her mat.

“I am sorry, Mother. I may be a little unwell after all. I just need to think…” Leela apologized as she sat back down on her mat to do just that, think. Leela’s mind was reeling! That was right… Romana, her and Rose had gone backwards in time with the use of The Doctor’s machine. She was now back in a time when her parents and her tribe had not yet been slaughtered by daleks. It seemed so unnatural to be in the present of those long gone… Walking among ghosts… It felt almost wrong to mess with the natural order of things… of time. Leela must have been thinking on this silently for longer than she was aware because her father, unprompted, put a bowl full of scrambled eggs into her hands. Since she was a child, her father had always done this for her on the rare occasions when she was sick. The comforting gesture filled her with nostalgia and in that moment, Leela cared not how this visit to the past came about, her parents were alive! Her eyes began to tear, which did not escape her parents’ keen observation.

“Is the pain so great, my dear? Should I have your father call on the healer?” her mother coaxed, knowing that a warrior of the Sevateem tended to understate their pain. With her parents both stooped so near to her, Leela took advantage of their proximity and embraced them together at the same time.

“I am not in any pain. But you will still need to call the healer. I have had premonition and there is much to do.” Leela explained.

Leela was loathe to have to leave her home so soon. Especially considering that the last time she had left her tribe, it was abruptly and against her will. Leela has a strong sense of duty though and knew that if she did not hurry to find Romana, she could very well lose her parents and tribe all over again to the daleks. Leela immediately started packing supplies. Her tribe of course, would need an explanation... Especially Tomas, who happened to pop by to see what was taking his childhood best friend so long to meet him for a hunt. Needless to say he was quite surprised to see her packing for anything but a quick hunting trip.

“I don’t think we will need that much jerky and that big a water bladder for one hunt, Leela.” he teased. Leela would have liked to have said that she was now accustomed to her new reality where all of her loved ones were still alive… That she could not be taken by surprise again, but she would be wrong. 

“Tomas…” Leela whispered. Tomas had survived the initial invasion of the daleks, like she did. However, unlike her, he was one of the first to fall when they were taken to be slaughtered at the arenas. They had been separated into two different fighting parties. His party was to go out before hers and it was absolutely horrible! From the confines of a cage, Leela had had no choice but to watch Tomas die in an unfair battle without one friend to fight along side him. She would always regret that, but not anymore. Leela hugged her friend.

“I am sorry that I could not have been there to fight along side you.” Leela apologized, not being able to help herself any more than she could help holding on to him a bit too long. Tomas laughed off Leela’s strange, more affectionate than normal behavior. He also, at length, gently nudged her from his arms.

“Do not fret, Leela. We can always go hunting another day. But am I wrong to think that that might not be any time soon...?” Tomas observed, leaving the question a bit hanging in the air. 

“I will be leaving the Sevateem for a while, yes.” Leela replied as she hastened to finish her packing again. Tomas wanted a bit more of a detailed answer, naturally. However, knowing full well that Leela would tell him nothing until the moment she was ready, he simply chose to help her continue to pack. Leela certainly seemed to appreciate it since her mother was too busy sharpening her daughter’s blades and filling up a pouch of janis thorns for her. As he helped roll and stuff the essentials for a long journey, Tomas did not need to be a genius to know that something indeed as serious as a heart attack was going on. The packing was quickly sort, except for Leela’s mother, who was still sharpening blades. Neela was never convinced her blades were sharp enough for her child, as most fussing mothers tended to do. 

Sole soon arrived back with the healer and Leela got down to business. She was as honest as she could be without creating more confusion. After all, she barely understood what was going on herself.

“I have had a premonition that a great evil was coming…” Leela began and then proceeded to tell how she must leave Mordee alone to join warriors to battle with said evil. Leela left anything out that she felt might have been too detailed about the future. She did not know how much of her story was safe to allow travel through Mordee. Word of their plan to save the future could eventually get back to the Capitol or worse, Skaro. No, best be vague. Years of fighting in war and seeing how loose lips could often cost lives, left Leela more than happy to let the healer circulate her story and her friends to fill in the blanks. With any luck, her threadbare story would soon be with all the little fun clichés and exaggerations to render it completely useless for her enemies. 

Leela soon left home and headed for Arcadia. Leela enjoyed trekking through her old stomping grounds and the untamed beauty of the wilderness. If she had to wake up anywhere in this unusual world of time-travel, this was a nice place to start. It reminded her time and time again of all the things she was fighting for and just what was at stake. Despite her taking in the sights of the forest, Leela was making excellent time. Her timing was could not have been even more excellent as it had strangely led the time-traveling Sevateem right to Romana’s guards, Andred.

“It is strange, but fortunate indeed that I ran into you.” Andred smiled, quite pleased with his luck and completely missing Leela’s earlier comment about the bizarreness of time travel. “For I was on my way to see the Warriors of the Sevateem, which you seem to hail from. Forgive my asking, but am I in the presence of the warrior, Leela?” Andred politely inquired.

“I am Leela. Romana is eager for my arrival and you have been sent to aid me on my journey?”

“She has and you seem to have shaved off quite a bit of it already by meeting me at the halfway point and quite unprompted too. Color me impressed and grateful.” Andred continued to grin. “Though, weary traveler, unlike me now, you still have to make the full trek. Please permit me to travel with you the rest of the way and provide any assistance I can to ease and hasten your trip.” He gave a little bow after that. Leela considered his offer. He certainly seemed quite honest and desirest for her to accept.

“I could make my journey short enough on foot cutting through forests instead of taking roads... But I will accept your kind offer so as to save my strength for the arrival.” Leela thanked him as he began to help her up onto his strange ride, but she suddenly paused half way.

“I daresay, it is no beast that the Sevateem have ever hunted, but I assure you my transport is safe.” Andred started before he suddenly felt a tremendous pain in his arm! To his credit, he did not cry out, but he did lose his balance and fall to the ground.

“Ambush!” Leela declared as she pulled out her knives and what seemed like a score of rough, potatoish robbers surrounded them! Andred got up as quickly as he could and pulled out his weapon with his good arm. As he moved to join Leela at her side, she was quite glad to see that he had not fallen so quietly to the ground because he was dead. Their enemies began to tighten the circle they formed around the warrior pair. Andred could not help but think on Romana’s praises of Leela and he desperately hoped they were all true. If Leela was not every bit the fighter Romana claimed she was, the odds of them both dying were frightfully good.


	9. Evading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leela and Andred aren't out of the woods yet and Braxiatel finally pops the question...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was tough writing this one at first. Thanks to all who helped me work up the nerve to tackle it. You know who you are!

Leela was looking at her enemies very closely. Andred noted that it was not unlike how Leela had first looked at him when she spotted him in the road. Unlike that time though, Leela’s pensive stare did not eventually ease into smiling eyes. The reason being, unlike him, these people meant harm. Andred had thought the strangers were bandits before, but if that were the case, they would have already ridden off on his transport. Surrounded as he was, there was no way Andred or Leela could have stopped them from stealing his ride. And they certainly should have demanded any and all valuables they were carrying by now. But they did not. Whoever these blokes were, they definitely had other ill intentions than just highway robbery. 

Not in any hurry to find out what was in store for them, Andred moved to attack first! However, Leela beat him too it. Whether or not everyone was too focused on the flashy, caped boy wonder to notice Leela, she had unexpectedly pounced on the “thief” closest to her. Maybe not coincidentally, the brute also happened to be the largest, meanest looking one there! With lightning speed, Leela hit her target square in his forehead with the pommel of her knife! Just as fast, the behemoth of a bandit dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes, out cold! After that it was pandemonium! Evidently her target was the leader of the band and without his commands the whole operation devolved into a confusing campaign of retreats, fallbacks or half-baked attempts at attacking Leela! 

In the confusion, Leela grabbed Andred’s by his good arm and ran for a break in the line! Andred did not need any further prompting! He followed the Sevateem woman, who, through it all, was surprisingly not slowed down by the large pack she was still carrying. She simply repositioned it on her back and kept going. As fast as he could, Andred ran with her towards the tree line while firing his weapon back at their enemies. With any luck, his superb marksmanship would be a long enough deterrent for them to immediately follow. At least until Leela and he, out of his element and injured though he was, could devise their next move.

Leela indeed knew the area and the best places to hide given the flora and the fauna. She fully used it to her advantage and it was a good thing since it seemed that their attackers decided to go after them full heartedly again. Quickly, Leela determined that their pursuers were not locals when they kept making juvenile mistakes as they followed. The highwaymen-turned-assassins ran straight through plants that stung, leaves that cut, and crawling vines that itched and poked… All manner of things that she knew to avoid! One brute even stumbled into a ditch off the animal trail due to something as careless as not minding uneven ground. And the comedy of errors only increased from there! The warrior and the soldier easily put distance between them and the bandits. At length, Leela was confident enough in their enemies’ incompetence to deem it safe to just hide until the idiots stupidly pass them by. She crawled down, pulling Andred along with her, into a massive hollow between the roots of a large tree and the earth and then just waited. It was a bit claustrophobic, but not enough so that three or four people could not have hid down there uncomfortably.

For a long while, Leela and Andred said nothing, cautiously catching their breath. Although Leela tremendously appreciated her joints no longer aching with the return of her youth… She did lament that her younger body’s lung capacity was not yet what it was from all the years of running in her age. She needed to build up this new, old body’s endurance again. When the sound of their enemies’ scream and shouts of frustration or pain seemed to die down and carry far enough away, Leela ventured to speak to Andred.

“I have not forgotten about your arm. We need to treat your wound before it becomes infected.” Leela stated. Andred was not surprised by her concern for him, but was still touched to be in the forefront of her priorities once the initial danger had passed. He moved to remove his uniform jacket so they could get to the wound. Naturally, he found it a bit of a difficult job with how his arm stung and burned with the pain of his efforts to get his sleeve off. He tried to laugh off his failure.

“I promise you that this jacket was easier to put on this morning.” Andred joked quietly. Over the years, Leela had come to understand some of the subtleties of humor outside the tribe of the Sevateem and its many uses to compensate for perceived inadequacies. This brave man was utilizing it in that self-deprecating manner now and that did not sit well with Leela. She aimed to put a stop to it.

“You did admirably in providing me backup despite your injury. Being unable to perform this small task is no reflection on your overall skill as a warrior.” Leela logically reassured as she gently helped him with the removal of his jacket arm. Once it was off, Leela rolled up his long, once-completely-white sleeve of his shirt underneath and got straight to work. She guided his arm into a larger ray of sunlight peeking in through roots so she could assess the extent of the damage. From her pack she had adamantly held on to despite its cumbersomeness, Leela pulled out a Sevateem antiseptic and gauze, or rather moss. Well, now he knew at least one reason why she held on to it. He briefly wondered what else she had in there before becoming more distracted by her even closer still proximity.

Andred watched in awe as she gingerly and skillfully had his wound dressed in a matter of minutes. It could have taken an hour though and, despite the pain, it would have still been over far too quickly for Andred’s liking. He had gotten a good enough look at Leela in the light when they first crossed paths in the road earlier, but now with her bathed in daylight and inches away from his face… It allowed him to really examine her features in great detail. 

Frighteningly quickly, between observing her present handiwork, her speedily breaking through a circle of enemies before, and her visage now, he drew the conclusion that Leela was the most remarkable person he had ever encountered.

“A fighter and a medic. Your people are very well-rounded in your training. I think I would very much like to have a Sevateem Warrior like you around to whip the Guard into shape.” The words slipped out of Andred a bit dreamily. His spacey tone could have been, though unlikely, due to the lightheadedness resulting from his bloody injury. Leela was about to correct him about some of his ideas on what Sevateem training entailed by noting that much of her training was developed and refined from being in and observing others in the field of battle for more than two decades. She stopped herself just short of stating such an impossible thing to him though.

“You should rest and eat now. You will feel yourself again in no time.” Leela instructed to her loopy patient as she put some jerky in his good hand from her pack before partaking of some of it herself. In all his life, Andred had never had the opportunity to eat dried meat like this. However, he quickly learned how to consume it through watching Leela. Well, she just bit and tore into it... In the case of his less accustomed jaw muscles and teeth, using his good hand and teeth to pull it off in smaller strips first rendered better results for him, mastication wise. Andred had been a bit worried that his meal would taste a bit gamey, but pleasantly found that the dried meat’s flavor was really quite good. 

“The way you seasoned this meat is extraordinary! Leela, you must give me the recipe so I can pass it along to the Chancellery Guard’s messe hall cooking staff when we get back to the Capitol. Their chef is a bit crusty when it comes to changing his menu around, but I think he’d hold his tongue if the suggestion came from the Captain of--” Andred paused as he realized something critical. “In all the chaos, I never did get a chance to tell you my name, did I?” Andred queried. 

“I will gladly tell you how the meat is seasoned. And no, you did not give your name. But if you are the Captain of the Chancellery Guard, then you must be Andred.” Leela concluded with an amused smile, easily recalling him from many of Romana’s more pleasant recollections over the years when she spoke of the brave people lost along the way in their endless war. 

Romana never did provide much in the way of details on how Andred died exactly, only that he had died saving her at the start of the war. Leela had always just assumed that Romana’s silence on the matter was because the circumstances surrounding his death were just too painful to recall. However, Romana must have still wished to honor and keep Andred’s memory alive in spite of that final, painful memory, because she still spoke of him often. She just chose to focus on the heroics of his life before it was tragically cut short. 

Leela knew that Romana did not throw around praise insincerely or when it was unwarranted. So Leela already held Andred in high estimation. Needless to say, Leela was extremely pleased to see now that Andred was already living up to his valiant reputation. Andred naturally had no way of knowing the real reasons why Leela already knew about him… Nevertheless, for the second time that day, he was quite touched that, at least with her, it seemed that his reputation in the Capitol preceded him.

“Yes, I am Andredaselus of the House of Redlooms. Have you heard of me all the way out here in Mordee?” Eagerly quizzed Andred, trying, and completely failing, to play it cool in front of the impressive shield maiden. He may have also lowered his chances of successfully coming off as dashing when he lost his balance after accidentally aggravating his wound. Evidently, trying to recline into a suave, relaxed position while forgetting you had a bad arm was a recipe for disaster! He fell over. Though thankfully, since he was already sitting down, it was not too far a tumble. 

“I guess it seems a good soldier boy like me can’t help but fall in line when under such a great battler’s leadership.” Andred half laughed, half winced, more than a bit embarrassed by his weak attempt to salvage his pride after his literal slip up. Finally righting himself again, Andred found himself pleased enough with his efforts’ end results when, upon seeing he was no worse for wear, Leela smiled instead of rolling her eyes at him. 

Though not in malice, Leela had to try not to laugh at his bumbling efforts and managed to just titter a bit in amusement. She may not look it, but in spirit, she was a much older woman who, thanks to war, never got a chance to go through that innocent, awkward stage of youth in your teens and twenties when you were trying too hard to look enticing to a potential mate. In many ways, she found being able to “revisit” this aspect of her life that she had never experienced quite fascinating... It really was such an interesting concept: feeling safe in someone’s company and in your environment enough to just let your guard down and flirt. Well, she did not know what would come of it, but the way that her heartbeats were increasing now like when she was experiencing the thrill of a hunt… It made her eager to see just how far and how long these two heart-thumping feelings’ similarities would parallel.

“Am I mistaken that you are flirting with me?” Leela ventured carefully. Leela was the most skilled twenty-something-year-old warrior in the world with over thirty years experience, but this was, after all, uncharted territory for her. Leela’s asking so directly appeared to be a mistake in itself though, as Andred immediately began to backpedal.

“Oh, no, I’m sorry! I meant no disrespect, Madame. I apologize for being offensive.” Andred replied, barely getting the words out of his mouth fast and clear enough for his liking! Leela frowned at that. Some blood loss or no, Andred was very much alert now and hyper-focused on whatever Leela was to say next.

“My name is ‘Leela’, not ‘Madame’.” Leela corrected, “And I am not offended. I am just disappointed because I have never flirted before and I was eager to give it a try.” Leela sighed with a bit of frustration at herself. Once again, despite her many years among Romana’s people, she still did not understand their mannerisms well enough. Leela was starting to become resigned that, even now, with hopefully scores of returned years of her youth to relive, she probably would never understand the people of Gallifrey properly. Leela then got up and headed towards the only way back out into the forest. She momentarily paused at the opening and looked back at Andred.

“It is quiet enough outside now. I will see what I can do to make our stay more comfortable until we can leave at first light. Please continue to remain here and rest. I will be back shortly.” Leela spoke softly before she slipped away as silently as a windless night. Andred had been stunned by this person of contrasts… Temporary rendered speechless by it. She was a brilliant master of stealth and yet she had also been so blunt, truthful and without subterfuge in her reply to his sincere, though no less honeyed words. When he finally came to senses, and regrettably not nearly as soon as he would have liked, his brain finally allowed him to process the fact that he was wonderfully mistaken on something that was almost too good to be true.

“Wait, you wanted to flirt with me?!” Andred exclaimed as he moved towards to the mouth of the entrance to delay her leaving and get some clarity. Sadly though, Leela was already gone. In that moment, Andred could have kicked himself! And he would have done so too if he were a bit more confident that his fumbling, clumsy self would not further injure himself in the process, thus rendering himself even less useful to Leela. Andred sat back down on the earthy floor, noticing that his strength was leaving him again. Ugh, he would just have to wait, stay here, follow her instructions and, if she would allow him, try to make it up to her when she returned. What a preposterous situation to be in: injured in a forest in the middle of nowhere and hoping a bushcraft wonder woman would still want his help learning how to flirt when she got back! 

“The Doctor and Rose have worked together in the future.” Romana stated to see how it landed on Braxiatel. There was a noted pause inside the dimly lit tent.

“Top of your class at the Academy, so I know you are not one to jumble tenses, My Lady. And though I will be the last to admit that I keep tabs on my brother… I know for fact Thete does not keep much company... Let alone that as charming as Miss Tyler.”

“We are alone, Irving. You can call me ‘Romana’. And for a long while I have really not been accustomed to you calling me anything else. We never really stood on ceremony.” Romana exhaled.

“I cannot recall a time when our standing allowed that to ever be the case, My Lady…” Braxiatel remarked. 

“Romana.” Romana insisted with frustration. 

“Old habits die hard…” Braxiatel stated softly, more an apology than an explanation. Romana sighed. She had carefully planned this all out. However, it had all hinged on Leela and Rose’s both being present to back her up when Romana petitioned the Lungbarrows for their acceptance of her farfetched story. Nothing would work if she could not swiftly obtain their allyship. But now she was potentially throwing all that out the window by approaching Braxiatel alone and was at a loss at how to proceed. So Romana too fell back on an old habit when she did not know what to do when facing down an opponent: consult Brax. The problem was, her opponent was Braxiatel and her consultant was not Brax. And above all, she did not want to go about conferring with any version of him in the same, sideways manner like she had last night.

“Irving, I had thought on discussing the hypothetical with you again… But now I feel it would just demean us both… So I will ask you plainly: what, if anything, would I have to say or do to make you humor the impossible? Because what I am about to tell you is completely mad.” Romana confessed.

“Nothing.” Braxiatel replied.

“You won’t believe me?” Romana balked.

“No, you need do nothing. I will believe you.” Braxiatel corrected.

“With no evidence?” Romana questioned in amazement. That was very un-Brax.

“Oh, I have plenty. You need not supply any further.” Braxiatel reassured.

“That implies that I have already given you evidence.” Romana suggested skeptically.

“You have. You could not help it.” Brax said simply despite her incredulous look. Braxiatel’s somewhat blasé tone before suddenly became very serious. “I’ve been on the battlefield for many years, Romana. And I know the lingering traumas of war in someone’s eyes when I see it. I saw it when you withdrew from me today. Though I must confess, I thought I first saw it earlier last night. It just did not make any sense to me then. Outside of being an acting prodigy, you can’t fake that. And I have paid close attention to your career ever since you entered the High Council. You practically went in straight out of the Academy. You have never been to war, never had an attempt on your life, you were too young to feel the loss of your parents so acutely and, apart from that short gap year you spent with my brother, nothing has ever happened to you to garner such a triggered response.”

“What exactly are you saying?” Romana asked, needing him to confirm what she dared not trust he was implying.

“Strategist that I am, I don’t just barrel into things… No matter how advantageous... Everyone knows that. Yet, you knew I would agree to marry you in an instant. You are so familiar with Miss Rose when, truth be told, she has never had the misfortune to set foot in the pompous circles in which we travel. And even just this morning, your insistence that your uncle not take his health for granted… I understand now and there is something I wish to know…” Braxiatel concluded. 

“And what’s that?” Romana asked somewhat defensively.

“In the future, were we in love and how did I die?” He frankly inquired. It was all Romana could do not to gasp out the breath she had not realized she had been holding!


	10. Cornered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Romana and Braxiatel talk.  
> (I was going to make a terrible tent pun, but I didn't! You're welcome!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got insomnia and so you get a chapter!  
> Thanks to TPT's thoughts in the comment section of my last chapter, it shot my head in the direction I was looking for.

“In the future, were we in love and how did I die?” He had asked. Romana expected a plethora of painful, but necessary questions from Braxiatel’s brilliant strategic mind. How much time did they have before the inevitable war she obviously fought in? Was the war truly inevitable? Who were their enemies and how did it happen? What mistakes were made? Anything, but not something as personal as those two questions! She was taken so completely off guard. She wanted to tell him that it was too painful and not to ask her just yet. She knew he probably would not be happy about it, but would agree to hold off yet again. But no, no. The sooner he knew the truth, the sooner she could move forward with them both knowing what sort of relationship they were getting themselves into, a complicated one in completely unknown territory.

“You died in my arms when I was in my fifties.” Romana stated factually, easing into this uncomfortable future history lesson. Romana could practically see in real-time the millions of questions her answer bore to him, but he asked none of them.

“And yet you have not aged a day.” He stated.

“Traveling into the past was a bewildering experience. Somehow I occupy my younger body and yet my mind only recalls these days from the perspective of a future which now will hopefully never be.” Romana explained. Braxiatel looked oddly relieved and horrified.

“I must confess, I mourn for loss of the innocence of your youth.” Braxiatel admitted.

“Either way it will be willfully taken from me. At least this way, it is somewhat on my terms.” Romana reasoned. Braxiatel smiled a bit at how she looked at unexpected situation for how they could empower her rather than cow her.

“Well, at least now I know there is no fear of another, younger, Heartshaven Lady returning to Court only to be appalled when she found herself matched, without her consent, to an unbefitting inamorato like myself.” He sighed as if a burden had been lifted from him.

“Ah, so you expected something was amiss about me and were only playing the role of the attentive lover to this point until you learned my secret?” Romana quizzed archly, ignoring his other self-deprecating comment. Braxiatel almost snorted a laugh.

“I had thought my luck to be too good… But I do hope I would not toy with affection anymore than you, Romana.” He admitted.

“If it makes you feel any better, I felt the same.” Romana smiled. There was a more pleasant pause after that.

“Quite a pair we make… How long were we together?” Reframing his previous question. Romana, not yet ready to go there with things going so well, chose to take him literally.

“Oh, sometimes you would disappear for months, ages at a time, but you always came back. Usually, infuriatingly, at the last possible moment when I had already took you for dead. And then you would pull us all out of the mouth of peril.” Romana smiled in spite of those annoying memories. “It was one of the few times I would see your more playful side. You were always so smug then and inquiring if I’d missed you.”

“Was I really so starved for My Lady’s affection?” He joked, but that struck Romana where it hurt. Oh, she could not keep this farce of a heart-to-heart going as it was any longer.

“Evidently and through no fault of my own. I had never even suspected you had feelings for me until you told me with your last, dying breath.” Romana painfully owned. Braxiatel’s brilliant mind shorted out a bit at that.

“But you said that I died when you were in your fifties. Surely I, we wouldn’t have…” Braxiatel, realizing he was postulating without knowledge of the full situation paused before he made a fool of himself with assumptions. Up until this point, Romana had kept Braxiatel at an arm’s distance. She had not wanted the novelty of being allowed physical closeness to Braxiatel to tempt her away from saying what was necessary, but not necessarily pleasant to hear. However, seeing how disappointed and dissatisfied he was already at how his future had turned out… Romana reach out, put her hands on his forearms and gently guided his arms around her waist. He welcomed her will, for the force of his could not at the moment lead him out of his misery. His arms wrapped around her, Romana resting her head over his beating heart. It was still a marvel to her, given their “past”, and in that moment, Romana surprised even herself as she confessed what she was now only truly coming to realize and accept.

“Painful, regrettable as it was after you-- Brax died… My affection grew for him in retrospect. He did not say it in words, but always in actions. I am sorry to say it.” Romana confessed. Braxiatel rested his cheek on the top of her head, his heart indeed filled with regret.

“Oh, my dear, sweet lady. It is I who should say I am sorry. Words are meaningless without action, but I should have made sure that you knew all the same. All that wasted time--”

“--Will not happen again. I understand what you could never say now and I think in the years of your absence, I have since grown to love--” Romana stopped before finishing her sentence as Braxiatel slowly pulled back from her in his arms so he could look her in the eyes.

“I do not doubt what has grown in your heart, My Lady. But a dead man has no flaws and the sting of his trespasses can fade with time. As glorious as it would be to have now, I cannot accept from you the borrowed affection for a man which I have not yet earned… Even if that man is a future version of me. If you are to come to care for me that much, I want it to be with eyes wide open. I want you to see me and all my flaws as I am now. Choose me only then, I beg you.” He entreated sincerely. Romana was truly moved by his solemn plea and it inspired such feelings of veneration for her intended. She would wait as he had asked until both parties were truly comfortable together with these versions of themselves within their new, budding relationship. Still…

“May I at least kiss you, Irving? I could rule out your kisses as flawed that way...” Romana coyly challenged. Braxiatel raised an eyebrow at how skillfully she had led him into that snare.  
“I thought you would never ask.” Braxiatel sighed in contentment. Braxiatel had not known what to expect in a first kiss from a woman in her twenties, who was actually older than him by possibly twenty years, but he slowly leaned in. Well, that was not nearly fast enough for Romana. She ran her hands up the back of his neck and pulled him in hard to her lips! It was then that Braxiatel concluded pleasantly and somewhat unpleasantly in other ways that she had no experiencing in kissing. Her lips at first had tremendous trouble relaxing into the kiss despite his gentle lips’ encouragement. She was artless, but what she lacked in skill she made up with persistent enthusiasm, which was fine. If she were in need of instruction, he would gladly be her tutor. He was nearly undone though by the way she ran her petite hands through his hair. This was a woman pursuing passion like a man dying of thirst with his hair on fire pursued the waters of a sparkling oasis! 

It was only when her hands started traveling intriguingly down his back, with a gasp, did he break the kiss! Braxiatel pulled Romana away from him as far as was possible without allowing her to leave his arms completely.

“Please do not make me be the prudish one in this courtship, My Lady. I fear I will play the part very ill.” He panted. Romana laughed at that before sighing.

“I suppose it is only fair that I be the responsible one since I’m the oldest, Irving.” Romana teased, that time using his name in a tone that hinted more that of how an elder would address him rather than a lover.

“Yes, I will have to remember that looks can be deceiving. And is my younger brother in similar peril of being taken in by an older woman in the case of Miss Tyler?” He parried playfully.

“Actually, no. Though Leela is almost as old as I am.”

“Ah, yes. The Sevateem warrior you called on Andred to retrieve from Mordee. And is Captain Andred one of your futuristic coconspirators as well?” Braxiatel ventured. Romana was jostled by that. Subconsciously, she backed out of the circumference of Braxiatel’s arm and instead wrapped her arms around herself.

“No, Braxiatel… Andred is not.”


	11. Backing Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lungbarrow Brothers handle secrets very differently...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Noel Clarke's Birthday! So you all get a chapter!

Braxiatel could not help but see parallels from last night. Only this time it was Romana’s eye that could not meet him when he, again, unintentionally made her feel uncomfortable. And instead of him, she seemed to be the one who felt like she had revealed too much too soon. Now she was distancing herself from him, emotionally as well as physically. Unlike during that dance though, where it would have been brutish for him to abandon her in the middle of the dance floor, it was more than appropriate for her to leave his company in this tent. She looked like she could very well bolt any moment. Well that would never do. Braxiatel extended his arm in sincere entreat.

“Tarry, sweet Romana. We needn’t speak on anything, if you would but stay. I am a selfish being at heart… And now that I have had a taste of what it is like to hold you in my arms… I cannot bear the thought of relinquishing the privilege so soon.” Braxiatel offered with a glum, somewhat overdramatic, jutting of his lower lip more towards the end. He was obviously, or maybe not, only half serious. A move made to distract Romana from outright leaving and it worked. Romana’s instinct to bolt had gone away, replaced with morbid fascination.

“Irving, are you… pouting?” Romana questioned, doubting her eyes. Braxiatel was pleased at this. He would take her focusing on him over the demons of her past any day.

“And what if I were, My Lady?” Braxiatel quizzed back, pouting all the more.

“It’s just... I have never seen you pout before.” Romana explained as best she could in the midst of her embarrassing level of curiosity involving that protruding bottom lip. It gave him this sort of adorable quality she imagined he may have possessed back when he was closer to or younger than her current body’s age. It was oddly a form of time traveling in itself... Braxiatel opened his arms in invitation and in hopeful anticipation of her return.

“Stick around, My Lady, and you will see far more than that. I have a devastating wink too.” He promised with a slight demonstration. Romana chuckled a bit as she closed the gap she had created between them, all while trying not to blush a bit too much like a schoolgirl. He took that as permission enough and brought her into a gently embrace while rubbing circles on her back in a soothing motion. Romana certainly needed it as she thought on how, naturally, the more she kept the company of this Braxiatel, the more they would learn about each others’ true nature.

“And what will you in turn see in me, Irving?” Romana quietly asked at length into his chest, breathing in his comforting scent.

“Hmm?” Braxiatel hummed, not sure entirely what she had whispered. Romana looked up into his eyes and changed the question ever so slightly, now that she was faced with the prospect of actually having her passing, worrisome, rhetorical inquiry answered.

“Braxiatel, Irving… What do you see when you look at me?” Romana said a bit clearer and to his face. Although he could write sonnets of her physical beauty, he knew she was not asking anything along the lines of the superficial.

“I see an admirable woman who was forced into making impossible decisions under circumstances she could neither control nor escape… and yet she did not let it break her.” Braxiatel gently smiles with pride.

“Is it too much to hope for, for you to go on seeing me in that light a bit longer?” Romana asked almost meekly.

“My Lady, there is nothing you could say or do that could ever make me revere you any less.”

“Don’t be too sure, Irving.”

“Don’t try to douse out my regard for you with your sins, Romana, for I could drown yours in mine.” Braxiatel cautioned in a murmur. Romana sighed but more out of frustration. She needed to get her nerve back. It was painful, but Braxiatel could not help her prevent the horrors of the future without him being in the know. Maybe his promise to care for her regardless emboldened her, or maybe she finally allowed her logical side of her mind to take back the reigns. Whatever it was that motivated her, she was going to tell Braxiatel her dark secret. Romana gave a deep sigh.

“Andred is already dead in my old time line.” Romana began to explain. Andred was dead too? Braxiatel raised a slight eyebrow at that. He could see why she was so nervous about being able to convey a convincing story to all the men in her life… Their lives literally seemed to depend upon it.

“Not a time traveler, but you have already entrusted the captain with collecting one among your ranks. I fear you may have been giving yourself unneeded stress convincing me, if you were already able to persuade the captain so quickly upon your arrival.” Smiled Braxiatel reassuringly for her sake, though he, of course, suspected there was more to it than that. 

“Andred does not know about my plan yet.” Romana confessed.

“I imagine there was a good reason for not informing the captain of the true nature of his mission?” Braxiatel inquired.

“Time was of the essences and I did not have time to tell him, as I had nearly arrived back in this timeline at that very moment. I am still surprised that I managed to do as well as I did! Discovering that I had awakened in the body of my youth, immediately followed by the shock of seeing you returned from the grave, shining like a dream in front of me in your military regalia… You were like a ghost out of a tragic play.” 

“So that’s why someone of your blossoming youth was searching so desperately for ‘deep trenches in thy beauty’s field’.” Chuckled Braxiatel, giving Romana a bit of the dramatics by quoting a certain playwright in an attempt at lighting the mood. The idea of him unknowingly causing, and her secreting away, her pain at the beginning of that chance meeting was too much to bear. Both parties would rather look back on it as a beautiful, second chance that would lead to a lifelong partnership of equals. His tactic seemed to work well enough, although, Romana did hold Braxiatel a little bit closer as she got the conversation back on topic.

“It wasn’t entirely a mission of false pretenses I sent Andred on, you know. I do intend to make Leela my bodyguard when she returns, just like she has always been. There is no one better.” Romana commented, more in explanation than in defense.

“I should think myself as more than adequate a protector for My Lady. But as I cannot be everywhen at once, I would be a fool to refuse any transtemporal assistance available where your safety is concerned. Though I must advise you, not every person you are to bring into this plot may be as patient or devoid of offense as I the longer you withhold details, Romana. I have little fear of my brother’s resentment, but Andred--” 

“--Will know as soon as he returns with Leela, if she has not revealed it to him already. Leela has always had a bit of trouble with keeping up false appearances. My main aim though was to get Andred safely out of the city and under the protection of someone whom I trust implicitly, until we could all be gathered at the Citadel.” Romana explained with an urgency of which Braxiatel was not entirely sure she was conscious. With a curious look that Romana took notice of right away, Braxiatel took a liberty. It was really not much of one, but it certainly caused Romana to blush as he gently pushed a small lock of hair back behind her ear. The golden tress had slipped into her face during her hurried explanation. With a roguish smile, Braxiatel took notice of this slight tinge of color in her checks.

“Well, I see I have no fear of the captain as a love rival. So why all the extra caution for this friend in particular, Romana?” He tenderly queried.

“I don’t know how my interfering with the original timeline has changed future events, so I don’t know how soon it might happen again… Andred being killed.” Romana clarified, but still seemed hesitant.

“By whom was he killed, Romana?” Braxiatel encouraged.

“By me. I killed him.” Romana whispered, equal parts fear and relief. Relief in that she finally confessed it to someone she trusted, but fear because she imagined that any trust in her would be broken now. After all, she essentially got him to agree to marry her without first disclosing she murdered someone in a jettisoned timeline. Oh, this whole situation was just so insane! Irving Braxiatel, though, ever the man with ice in his veins, did not even flinch.

“And why exactly, with so obvious remorse, would you even dream of killing the most dutiful leader of your own security detail?” He asked simply, genuinely curious as to the circumstances surrounding the captain’s death. Romana winced at his words. She tried to remember though that he was clearly giving her the benefit of the doubt and had no way of knowing just how his innocent choice of words wounded her.

“That’s just it! To this blasted day I do not understand why!” Romana cursed in frustration. “I had a terrible nightmare that I had stabbed Andred through the heart… I had thought I had **dreamed** it all. But when I woke up the next day, he was dead. Murdered in the underground corridors to which only guardsmen and royals have access. Dead exactly as I had dreamt it! I thought I was going mad!” The pessimist in Romana looked to Braxiatel, expecting, no, wanting him to push her away for the murderess she was! Bless and curse Braxiatel though, for he seemed to persist in giving her the benefit of the doubt until he had all the facts in place.

“You dreamt of the murder? And there is no possibility that it was just a horrible coincidence?” Braxiatel suggested. Romana shook her head.

“The odds of a coincidence do not look in your favor when you find your clothing from the night before burnt and the murder weapon discarded exactly in the part of an underground water system you knew it would be…” Romana laughed, but there was no humor in it.

“I see… I imagine that your uncle hushed it up?” Braxiatel inquired, with not a hint in his tone suggesting he suspected anything less.

“I confessed the whole of it to my uncle immediately. However, with no logical motive, no proof except dreams and no surviving evidence pointing to me… My uncle forbade me from throwing my life away over vivid nightmares. He told me to just go on doing good at Council in Andred’s memory if he, as a king, could not absolve me of the guilt in my heart, but to tell no one of it. Though I confess it was a long while before my heavy heart could do Andred’s memory any justice…” Braxiatel looked at Romana with sympathy for all she had suffered.

“Well, you have and you are continuing to honor him. Right now, Andred is alive and safe enough. You are seeing to that, which a cold-blooded killer would not do, Romana. In the meanwhile, I promise, I will help you uncover this mystery.”

“Forgive me, but even now, I feel like I would be such a naïve woman to believe that possible.” Romana uttered with a hint of shame.

“I take no offense. I would never fault someone’s instincts. Though not always completely on the mark, our intuition seldom sets us off course.” Braxiatel smiled warmly. “Now, lets see how soon I might be the one calling Miss Rose my sister-in-law, hmm?” Braxiatel suggested, changing the subject.

“Oh, Irving. They’re not like that. I fear you may be disappointed in that quarter.” Romana tried not to roll her eyes as she allowed Braxiatel to guide her outside the tent.

Once the fear of losing Rose, to at least his brother, had passed, The Doctor realized that he was indeed quite famished. Though, honestly, he did not register even half of what he was drinking or eating off his sizable plate Rose had haphazardly handed him earlier when she had feared he would faint from hunger. He was just so captivated by every word Rose uttered, which marked her intelligence and grace, to be bothered registering the food he was tasting. This was why he was quite startled when she suddenly reached her hand up to his face. The motion was hurried, but gentle as her hand stopped his hand and fork’s joint effort to shovel another miniature mound of food into his mouth. She took the fork from his hand and smiled. The Doctor froze temporarily. He was brilliant, but at the moment, his mind could not fathom what was going on. Why would she draw so near his lips and stop something from going into his mouth? She seemed quite pleased with herself too. Like the cat who got the canary… Or rather a wolf that did… Against his will, his mind started going to places that humored the casting of such roles: prey and hunter, Doctor and Bad Wolf, and what activities hunting and being hunted might entail. Before he could get himself into any more of a worried tizzy though, Rose spoke up. However, it was nowhere near anything as salacious as his over-thinking brain could have ever dreamt up. She hummed in satisfaction.

“I thought there were some pears in the fruit salad. Saved your taste buds that time, Doctor.” Rose jokingly praised herself as she flicked off the slice of fruit from his fork and handed him back the rest. Foolishly flattering himself into thinking that Rose had been coming on to him aside, that comment got The Doctor’s attention. With hands a bit shakier than he would have liked, The Doctor took another sip of his tea to ground himself.

“How did you know that I don’t like pears?” causally queried The Doctor as best he could, though maybe coming off a drop suspicious.

“I’m more surprised you didn’t notice that I knew how you took your tea. Way too cold.” Rose smiled back. The Doctor paused mid-sip at that. He had thought that the tea was an excellent temperature, but he had just dismissed cold tea as a normal “evil” that occurs at a picnic. Knowing Brax though, his brother would never allow such misfortune to befall him or any of his fellow guests, even at a picnic in the middle of a field. Brax would probably bring a portable stove and everything to whatever party he was invited. The Doctor tried to keep his excitement down. Maybe Rose did know him, or at least something about the Bad Wolf, after all.

“Yes, it is quite delightfully tepid. I thank you, Rose Tyler. And how might you have known that? Romana could not have possibly given you a few hints to get in my good books?” The Doctor offered, excited, but not quite foolhardy enough to ask her directly. It was still too hard to believe the lady of his dreams and Rose could be the same person.

“I like the way you say my full name, but you can just call me ‘Rose’ too, you know. You already did once before.” Rose pointed out, really liking the sound of her name on his lips to such a point she inadvertently dodged his question. Though truth be told, the way he put his inquiry about Romana’s good information, anyone, Rose included, could have seen it as a rhetorical question. The Doctor, being thrown by Rose’s honesty about his pronunciation of her name, momentarily forgot his prior inquiry.

“Yes, I called you Rose, but I thought you were to be my sister then, family. I was not sure it was entirely appropriate to be on such familiar terms with you as a laboratory partner.” The Doctor confessed sheepishly.

“It’s even more appropriate now, I think.” Rose reassured.

“Well, then, Rose. What are we waiting for? I know our esteemed hostess must have gone through a great deal of trouble to have this lovely picnic spread prepared for us, but…”

“Actually, it was all Braxiatel’s idea.” Rose grinned.

“Was it really?” The Doctor asked, intrigued. He looked in the direction towards which his brother had retreated into the tent. The Doctor would have to store that little tidbit in the back of his mind to explore later. “Well, then you think he would mind if we duck out of the party a bit early?” He smiled conspiratorially.

“Whatever for?” Rose smiled with an identical devious expression, the pair well on track to becoming thick as thieves. The Doctor jumped to his feet and extended his arm for Rose to follow.

“We haven’t a moment to lose if I am going to be moving my facilities to the Capitol. Undoubtedly Romana is going to be setting us up in one of her uncle’s private laboratories. I am eager to see which one and how much room I will have so I know which of my larger experiments can be relocated here.” The Doctor gushed. Rose took his hand and allowed him to help pull her up. He did this quickly with an almost comically effective tug and Rose actually had to put her hand on The Doctor’s chest just to avoid colliding into him.

“Sorry about that. I fear I have gotten a bit carried away with my excitement.” The Doctor blushed as he looked down into her face.

“S’alright. No harm done.” Rose blushed back, a bit captured by the blue orbs that were his eyes. It was then that The Doctor’s throat gave a bit of a perplexed sound as something about Rose caught his attention. Rose followed his line of sight down towards her décolletage, but his eyes were not focused on that area of her body, but rather focused as if there were something on it.

“I beg your pardon, but what is that around your neck?” The Doctor asked oddly calmly. Now Rose was very confused. Rose had opted out of borrowing any of Romana’s jewelry today. Her bosom, throat, her whole collarbone area, was completely bare and devoid of adornments. So what could he possibly be referring to…? Rose gave a start too as she noticed that something was indeed around her neck: a chain with a…

“My key! I thought I’d lost it!” exclaimed Rose without thinking. When she had come back to the past, Rose had returned to her linear corresponding body and even clothing. So naturally she assumed that anything physical, body or object, that she had had when she was in the future, except the knowledge she had gained, was lost to her. Rose never even thought to look for her key, given this obvious notion. And surely Rose, Romana or at least the maids, would have noticed a strange key handing around her neck, and yet, had not.

“I’m sure you did think you lost it. That’s a pretty strong perception filter you have on that thing…” The Doctor said coolly, that tone of suspiciousness back and in full swing. “I assure you, though. You probably had that trinket around your neck the whole time.” Rose, instinctively covered it with her hands. It was something gifted to her by her old Doctor and she worried of the consequences if the younger saw it now. It was already too late for hiding though, The Doctor had had a glimpse of it and apparently that was all the more he needed. His eyes shifted from Rose to right behind her. The Doctor then spoke, but not to Rose.

“Tell me, Romana… How is it that Miss Tyler here, a woman whom I have never met before, has a perception filtered-guarded, portable mass-memory driver, technology that I have only just invented and have not yet shared with the general public, or the royal family, around her neck?” The Doctor inquired softly to his old friend as she had just immerged from the tent, but there was no gentleness to it. His head then turned slightly, evidently towards his brother and with more anger. “And why are you all so keen on her becoming my laboratory assistant?”

“Partner, not assistant. And it is a key, not a driver. It was gifted to me by my best friend. My old laboratory partner.” Rose insisted, indignant that The Doctor was practically ignoring her. The Doctor looked momentarily repentant for acting like she was not standing in that very field with him, but he pushed it down. As much as it pained him to admit, his dream lady, his Bad Wolf, showing up in the real world, after orders to find her, was too coincidental, too unreal and fairytale-ish. If others could access, replicate and operate his technology without his permission or knowing… Maybe people with nefarious intent could mess with his dream cycle too. He had to error on the side of caution.

Braxiatel and Romana looked on the scene that was suddenly before them: an ever growing paranoid Doctor and an upset and hurt Rose Tyler. These certainly were not sustainable conditions if Romana’s plan to save Gallifrey was to go forward. Braxiatel turned to Romana.

“I know that you wanted to wait until Leela and Andred had returned, My Lady. But I fear that, given the current circumstances, Leela and Andred will just have to catch up on things when they arrive back at the Capitol.” He reasoned evenly.


	12. Flirting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andred and Leela teach each other to flirt. Meanwhile, The Doctor is flirting with trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More birthdays, more chapters.

Leela was concerned that Andred’s would have trouble retaining heat once it got dark and the temperature dropped. So she decided that, rather than risk drawing the attention of a fire, a bedding of dried leaves might be in order. Quickly she fashioned a basket out of vines she found and began to fill it up with said bedding. They should have enough water in the water bladder in her sack to last them the night. Acknowledging that they may have to risk a tiny fire for boiling more water for drinking, if Andred was too weak to move, she also gathered a small bundle of sticks and twigs for kindling.

Satisfied enough with what she foraged, Leela began to head back to their hiding place. She even found some wild berries as she made the last turn before turning around back the way she came on the animal trail. She was particularly pleased about that find, a bit of sugar would definitely help her injured comrade. 

Leela was in a very good mood, which was fortunate considering what was waiting back at camp for her. One of those stocky brutes, covered in burs and rashes from obviously having no knowledge on how to rough it in the outdoors of Mordee, was trying to squeeze pass the roots leading into their hiding place! If he was trying to do it discretely, he was failing miserably though. She could hear his loud mumbling from meters away. No he was not mumbling, he was screaming, but it was muffled! Leela took immediate action, quickly drawing closer in on her prey.

Undetected, Leela kicked the would-be murderer in his side to get his attention, but the fool did not budge. Rather he just cursed a muffled oath and struggled more, his stifled curses growing more despite sounding. What was going on? In her youth, Leela’s first thoughts would have been to neutralize the threat by maiming or killing her enemy and ask questions later. However, Leela, older in spirit as she was now, understood that some enemies were better to be kept alive, at least until they were relieved of all their intelligence. She moved to pry the man out from the hole so she could interrogate him. However, her efforts were halted when she heard Andred’s diminished voice beyond the living obstruction.

“You’ll only manage to break his wrists doing that Leela.” Andred informed her. “He was having some trouble getting in. So I tied his hands around a root with my cape and gagged him with the rest of it. He’s good and stuck for now, but I fear I may have overexerted myself.” Andred weakly laughed. Leela did not even give it a second thought as she immediately dismantled her basket and tied the choking vines around the man’s legs after dumping much of the leaves over him. If his robber friends were just as stupid as him, no one would notice his legs with that bit of camouflage covering the rest of him.

“I will look and see if I cannot crawl through any roots on the other side of the tree. Wait and I will be with you shortly.” Leela called to Andred from around the stuck man.

“Oh, good. I much rather be stuck with you than him.” Andred quipped.

“Ohh! That was flirting, was it not?” Leela pointed out eagerly. Andred paused at this.

“Yes, I suppose it was.” He grinned weakly to himself.

Leela managed to contort her body through another, smaller gap in the roots and was back underground with Andred. Surveying Andred’s improvised handiwork, she quickly untied and retied the man’s hands with more vine into a more superior knot and gagged him with an old headband from her bag she would have otherwise used as a rag. Once that was done, Leela proceeded to inadvertently widen the hole her enemy was stuck in by giving him a mighty tug forward, pulling the rest of him under the tree with them. For extra assurance, Leela hog tied the man’s arms and legs together. Leela then returned Andred’s cape to him, covering him with it like a blanket. Andred figured that the next thing that Leela would do is interrogate the prisoner, but she just went back outside and brought in a pile of dry leaves along with a large, fresh, green, folded leaf on top of them. She laid out the leaves on the floor for him to sit on top of and then she opened the fresh leaf and handed it to Andred.

“I know we have already filled up on jerky, but please try to eat these berries too. They are juicy and quite sweet. The water and sugar should help with the dizziness.” Leela smiled.

“Thank you. That was a bit of a missed opportunity for flirting though.” Andred grinned as he popped large berries into his mouth. Leela looked perplexed.

“Really? How so?” Leela questioned. Andred swallowed what he had in his mouth, not quite expecting her to ask what he meant.

“Oh, it would be a bit of a corny way to flirt,” he admitted, “But… I’ll still say it. These berries are not so nearly as sweet as you.” Leela thought about for a moment like she was solving a complicated equation.

“I see. So you flirt by changing the meaning of words to flatter another?”

“Not always. Wordplay is a fun challenge though and I like it.” Andred owned.

“Fun? I do not use words to make sport of matters of the heart. If the praise is not true, then that sounds more like lying.” Leela declared sternly.

“I would never toy with somebody’s heart or shower someone with disingenuous compliments. I am again sorry. I seem to be explaining this all wrong.” Andred apologized. “I know this might be hard to believe, but I am not exactly an expert on flirting.” Andred blushed. Leela smiled at that. She valued honesty above most things and the way he was still somehow blushing despite his ashen, though notably improving, complexion… It gave him a terribly endearing appearance. Not unlike a young, inexperienced Sevateem warrior trying to impress another on a hunt. Building up confidence and hoping someone would see the best parts of yourself was no evil, if it was coming from a place of sincerity. Leela’s features softened and she decided, now that she thought she was starting to get the point to flirting, to give him some help in his quest to impress.

“I think with me, truthfulness is the highest form of flirting.” Leela spoke softly.

“Well, then,” he murmured back, “I can honestly say that I have never met anybody more selfless and intriguing as you, Leela.” She blushed at that and would have said something equally as honest about what she thought of him, but then the quiet, warm mood was interrupted by muffled grouching. Evidently, their captive was equal parts insulted and disgusted to be neglected in favor of a lovers’ tête-à-tête. Leela sighed in annoyance and unsheathed her knife.

“Yes, yes. I have not forgotten about you.” Leela promised their uninvited guest. As her approached and her knife came into view, the bandit would wish that he had not been so impatient.

The Doctor should have known that things were too good to be true. He was certain that he did not have the full picture though and for the sake of filling in the blanks, he remained as calm as someone with dashed romantic hopes could. He hoped there was more to it than Braxiatel providing a demonstration of the fruit of the labors of a scientist he employed to develop some sort of mind altering or reading technology. Braxiatel was many things, but intentionally cruel to show off and draw him back to the Capitol was not one of them.

“So is this why I have been having dreams of Rose, a woman I have never met, Brax? How you have managed to reproduce technology that only exists in my head and notebooks? Were they pulled from my mind and dreams? And what is the name of this little dream mining project of yours? I bet I can guess. Makes sense with a wolf at my mind’s door.” The Doctor directed at his brother. “Romana, I hope you were not a coconspirator in this ‘Bad Wolf’ business.” The Doctor finished as he stared down his old friend.

“How do you know about the Bad Wolf?!” Rose and Romana questioned in stereo, slightly jostling both Lungbarrow brothers with the unexpectedness of the loud outburst. The Doctor did not know how to respond at first. Had they not heard him? It was embarrassingly painful enough to have been taken in by all of it. And now they wanted him to describe what he witnessed in detail? But you know what, in for a penny, in for a pound when science was involved.  
“The Bad Wolf, the mysterious lady who has haunted my dreams every night for months! A woman who urged me to seek her out just before my summons to the Capitol.” He turned to Rose, “Well, I am here now, Bad Wolf. I have found you. So now what, hmm?” The Doctor questioned expectantly, his outrage barely pushed down below the surface. This was definitely not how Rose had thought the day was going to turn out. She thought that she was to be friends with The Doctor again, but now he was shouting at her and accusing her of tricking him as the Bad Wolf. Rose was a grown woman, but even she was having trouble holding back her tears just looking at his angered, disapproving face.

“We’ll have none of that, Doctor!” Romana projected loudly with all the authority and then some of the royal blood that was in her veins. “I know nothing of visitations in your dreams, but if you had any idea what Rose has gone through just to get here… To get back to you! …You would be ashamed by your outburst! Now could we all sit down and behave like mature adults and talk this over before the guards come over here wondering what’s going on?” Romana stared The Doctor down and there was a pause between them as the pair sized each other and their potential next moves up. Braxiatel then came up to Romana and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“I’d take Romana’s generous offer to explain ourselves rather than jump to conclusions and make an enemy of the House of Heartshaven and that of your own.” Warned Braxiatel, not unkindly, but there was still the undertone of a threat. 

The Doctor had already decided to see reason, as Romana suggested, before his brother’s display of protectiveness for Romana showed the pecking order of where his loyalties lied. Romana and THEN him, which was probably the only reason why Braxiatel had not knocked The Doctor on his backside yet for raising a voice to her. At any rate, that could still happen very quickly considering that Braxiatel seemingly had either not acknowledged or noticed The Doctor’s levelheaded acquiescence yet. This prompted The Doctor to make his decision known all the clearer and quicker. 

“You have my undivided attention, Lady Romana.” The Doctor genuflected with sincere politeness.

Cool heads prevailing, Braxiatel made short work of pulling four chairs around the table inside the tent before inviting the ladies inside. He then gestured for his brother to follow and, oddly, for him to be seated first, which The Doctor begrudgingly obliged. The Doctor then noted that Brax made a distinct show of positioning and gentlemanly helping Rose settle into a chair furthest from his little brother. This was meant to be a slight. That much was obvious. Braxiatel’s kind behavior, by Rose’s grace, allowed him such amicable interactions and not The Doctor. Although, unless his partiality towards Rose and her company had been much more painfully obvious that he had thought, The Doctor could not imagine how Brax would think it would wound him that Rose turned to the elder Lungbarrow brother for friendship and not himself. He barely knew the strange, though intriguing familiar, woman and so her being particular friends with his older brother and not him was no injury. At least, that was what The Doctor told himself. Having a clear moment to think on it now, Romana’s earlier implied words that he somehow shared a history with Rose haunted him with dread. 

With as much consideration towards Rose as was possible being given, Braxiatel then saw to it that Romana was just as comfortably seated, albeit with a bit more deliberation and tenderness towards her, as was befitting a courting couple. 

“Now, before we start, Thete.” Braxiatel began as he took his rightful seat next to his intended, “I would like you to know that I believe every word that Romana has to say.” The Doctor puzzled before, but now he raised an eyebrow. That statement carried some weight.


	13. More Flirting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leela decides that it is not safe for her and Andred to remain in the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays~~!!!

There were many things that Andred had hoped to get to see by the end of the night… A grown, hardened bandit reduced to tears was certainly not one of them, but here they were. Leela’s interrogation technique was, in a word, intense. She never laid a finger on the man, just sat very near to him while sharpening her knife.

“Now, let me tell you what I know about you. Your pack of cowards attacked my friend and I, unprovoked. You had us outnumbered, yet I felled the biggest one of your league. We managed to escape even with my ally injured. Apart from my friend’s arm wound, neither of us have any injuries from something as ignorant as running into a bush with sharp, unyielding leaves. You do, which means you are not from the untamed land of Mordee. Your band of miscreants is as much babes in the woods as you are and so help is not coming. Conclusion, you will not leave this burrow of a tomb, even dead, if you do not tell me all you know.” Leela explained calmly as she turned the sharpened blade on the gagged man. She slid the blade under the gag so that it sat flush against his check, sandwiched between him and the gag. He was trying to put up a brave front, but even he had to give a frightened yip at that. 

Even Andred, decidingly her friend, quaked a little at Leela’s words. Although, any uneasiness or fear was mostly eclipsed by his awe at the mastery she held over the space. And all without so much as raising her voice or delivering a single blow! She did not need any such brutish tactics to get her point across. Here was a warrior confident and comfortable enough in her skin to recognize the lack of it in others. Rather than exploit it with violence though, she let the awareness of how unequal her opponent was to her combat skills be their undoing. “Now, I am going to remove this gag and you are not going to make a sound. You will only speak to tell me what I want to know and if you cannot do that, then tell me which of my blades,” Leela then pulled out a second blade from seemingly nowhere, “would you like me to use to end this tiresome talk permanently.” Leela did not even wait for his reply and, oddly, she did not cut the cloth with the blade either. Skillfully, she pulled her knife out from under the fabric with lightning speed! And yet, she did not even nick her captives cheek, though he still squealed as if she did! Leela paused for a moment so that her prey understood that this was a deliberate display of her mastery of the knife and that skill was the only reason why he remained unharmed. She then reached back behind the man’s head and untied the gag before letting it fall to the ground. His lips were free to cry for help, but he did not utter a sound. Leela smiled.

“Good. I am glad we can all be civilized. Now, why did you attack us?”

“I know not why…” The man began and when it appeared that he was not about to say any more, Leela lifted her knife ever so slightly up into the air. Suddenly, the man’s recollection improved. “I just know my boss took a job from some upper crust in the Capitol of Gallifrey. They wanted the man dead.” He gestured to Andred with his eyes, “You, Miss, just got in the way.” He nervously confessed. Leela never liked to be called “Miss”, “Ma’am” or “Madame” by anyone, but she was after bigger game than being addressed properly.

“And why did they want him dead?” Leela pressed, and the bandit, just glad she was not pressing the knife into him, kept talking.

“I don’t know! Only that his death was worth quite a pretty penny and especially so if we came back with proof of his death! I don’t know anything beyond that, I swear! My boss handled the business end! I just follow orders!”

“Well, if you just follow orders, then you can follow mine. I have decided that it is not safe here for the captain, which is troublesome considering the state you have left him in. But if an enemy has to be inferior in anything, let it be in carrying out a murder. You are going to assist me in delivering him to safety… on your back.” The man looked like he was going to protest, but Leela gave him a look that reminded him that he was not to say a word if it was not to answer a question. Leela must have seen this in his eyes.

“You are going to help us because you have heard of the Sevateem and their infamous, incurable ways to silently kill an enemy. I promise you that you would not want to be on the receiving end of those rumors if you cross me.” Leela stated honestly and he believed her.

“So when do we leave, Miss?” The terrible assassin reluctantly inquired.

“You will address me as ‘Leela’ and not ‘Miss’. Rest up. I hope you are surefooted with proper guidance, for now I think it best we leave before first light. Pray that the captain’s transport is still where we left it. Otherwise, you are going to have a very long trek back to the Capitol.” Leela warned. 

“Yes, Leela.” The man squeaked back. With all that settled, Leela gagged the man again and he was thankful jus for the perceived break from their scary exchange. Leela then went over to her pack and pulled out a pair of woven blankets. The first one she threw over her captive’s head and body like one would do to keep a bird warm in a cage. Her second blanket she then draped over her and Andred as she sat down next to him.

“I am sorry that you will only get a couple hours sleep, but it is safer the sooner we leave here if his friends are stumbling around so near.” Leela quietly reasoned. “But worry not. Rest to build up your strength for tomorrow’s journey, for I shall stay up and keep watch.” Leela gently promised.

“You were absolutely amazing!” Was the first thing to pass through Andred’s lips, he could not help it. Leela gave a slight start at this, both at the compliment and his slightly raised volume. Andred, remembering where he was, and that they still had an audience, lowered his tone but not his enthusiasm. “And I mean it, Leela. You have displayed more natural skills, knowledge and talent in half a day than many could show in an entire military career.” He then said in a tone even lower than before, so low in fact that Leela instinctively leaned her ear closer to his lips in order to hear him. “It’s no wonder Romana was so eager to enlist you into her inner circle… There is no one more suited than you and that is the absolute truth.” He marveled.

“So then you are absolutely flirting now?” Leela smiled playfully as she nudged closer to Andred’s good arm… She did this mostly to keep warm with just his cape and only one of her blankets to share between them. She would be being dishonest if she said she did not find being so near him a pleasant side benefit to the inconvenience of sharing a blanket though.

“I will ‘flirt’ with you every chance I get if it means I get to see that bright smile of yours pointed towards me.” Andred pledged. There was something else Leela always wanted to try with someone she fancied and she did not think she could have found better inspiration and motivation to try than in that very moment. Leela wrapped her arms protectively around Andred’s good arm and nuzzled, maybe even snuggled into it.

“I think I would like such an arrangement with you, Andred.” Leela whispered her approval of him continuing his flirtations. Andred would have liked to have said that his heart was beating too much and too fast at that point to have fallen asleep. However, he felt so exhausted from the calamities of the day, and so safe under Leela’s secure embrace, he had no problem soon drifting off to sleep. 

When Andred awoke a couple hours later, he had hoped to wake up much in the way that he had fallen asleep: with Leela’s arms all but draped over him. What he did wake up to though was Leela briefing their prisoner as to how the day would proceed.

“…You will either lead us to where your transport is or ours. Unless, of course, you wish to be made a pack mule for the whole of the journey back to the Capitol.” Leela instructed. The villain, still gagged, only nodded in understanding.

“And do not try to lead us into danger, for I will know and put an end to it before you trick has even begun.” Leela warned. Leela then turned to Andred.

“Ah, good. You are awake. Has your strength returned any after a couple hours rest?” Leela asked kindly. Andred at first only stared at Leela, a happy recipient of her attention. Soon enough though, he remembered himself and his situation and hurried to answer her.

“Yes, a bit. I don’t know if I could run much, but I think I could manage walking.” Andred assessed honestly has he tested out his somewhat sluggish limbs as he folded up the Sevateem blanket still laid out over his legs and midsection. He tried to get his cape back on, but after a couple failed attempts with his stiff arm, he folded that up too and handed it and the blanket to Leela. Leela looked at him a bit concerned, but said nothing on it.

“It’s just as well… It being bad enough that I’m wearing such a brightly colored uniform in a forest where it would be best to wear more muted colors.” Andred offered in place of Leela’s silence. Leela put the folded items into her sack and once again took out her first aid items.

“I am glad that you have not gotten worse. Your bandages still need changing before we set out though.” Leela expressed both pleased and concern.

“You’re the boss.” Andred smiled, as he, more easily than yesterday with his jacket still off, complied with her wishes. Leela sort of paused at his statement about who was in charge on this mission and grinned to herself.  
“Yes, I am.” She agreed.

Leela had Andred’s wound cleaned and his bandages changed in half the time she had last… Putting his jacket back on was just as much a struggle as taking it off last time though. Yes, the uniform was a bit garish for the situation at hand, but Leela wanted him to be as warm as possible before the sun came up. What a merry little band they were: Leela happy they seemed to be evading their inept enemies, Andred wary of his environment, but pleased to observe Leela’s technique as a scout. And finally, Andred propped up by a man who was just happy to be alive as they tripped along the forest floor. Satisfied that they were not yet discovered or being followed, Leela began to navigate the forest with her prisoner-turned-assistant’s good information on where his wicked friends were hiding. 

When they found that Andred’s transport was no longer in the middle of the road, the bandit reasoned that it had most likely been taken back to his camp. Leela was glad for have deciding to head out before first light if they were to infiltrate a camp. Their captive did not know exactly where the camp was, but it did not take Leela very long to find it. The smoke from the villains’ campfires left to burn out on their own over the course of the night and the disturbed ground from their own transport was obvious.

Along the outskirts of the temporary camp, Leela could see that many of the men, for want of relief from their injuries, had either gone to sleep or drank themselves into a stupor. She needed confirmation though as she pulled out her weapon.

“I saw about twelve of you on the road where you attacked us. How many of you are there and is everyone,” Leela then pointed with her knife to a sleeping “guard”, “including that man, asleep?” The thief, worried that her knife had been removed from its holster for other reason than just to make use of it at a pointer, quickly helped Andred down to the ground and threw out his hands in a placating gesture.

“Yes, Leela. I promise you! Everyone is asleep.”

“You lie,” Leela stated, “Everyone but you.” With that, Leela took the pummel of her knife and struck him in the back of head before he even understood her meaning. The man fell to the ground unconscious.

“If that is an example of the Sevateem’s sense of humor… Remind me to never to be on your bad side when the urge to make a joke strikes you, Leela.” Andred commented, half amused and half wincing at how quickly the man went down. Leela, still not perfect at distinguishing between things said in jest and in all seriousness, honestly defended herself of such an accusation.

“A kind warrior who cheerfully suffers their injuries as well as you has no fear of displeasing me.” Leela affirmed, though maybe a drop hurt. Andred, picking up on her serious concern that he had made an inaccurate judgment of her character, amended his comment.

“Forgive me, Leela. I was never in doubt of it. Apparently my attempts to compliment your clever witticism fell flat on their face as much as our good friend here did.” He ironically pointed towards the third in their party now lying on the ground. Leela did chuckle a bit at that when she recognized the wordplay.

“Your joke started off poorly, but you more than recovered.” Leela smiled. “Speaking of recovery, are you rested enough for the second phase of our plan?”

“I’ll manage. What do you need me to do?” Andred asked, no longer in fear of asking for details now that they no longer had a potential saboteur in their midst.

“I will provide any necessary cover while you secure your transport.” Leela stated.

“And sabotage any of theirs I have time left over for?” Andred asked conspiratorially.

“I like the way you think.” Leela smiled.

“And I think I like everything about you.” Andred replied as boldly as a man could be considered to be who hurries off before seeing the result of such a comment. Leela blushed as she saw the rogue go off to do his task. She marveled at how her own warrior society had never developed such a manner of interaction, for…

“This flirting business is not for the faint of heart.” Leela all but stuttered. She rallied her warrior strength to face the challenge and Leela quietly followed behind him. Her knives were drawn and ready for any enemy who had the misfortune of running into the flushed Sevateem now. 


	14. Damage Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor's situation can be described in two words: Damage Control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't sleep, so you get the deetz.

It had gotten terribly quiet around the table inside Irving Braxiatel’s picnic tent and, where The Doctor was concerned, quiet seldom boded well.

“So let me see if I understand correctly, Romana… Your Ladyship and Miss Rose, as well as another woman to whom you are anticipating the arrival, are from an assumed aborted timeline thirty year in the future, one in which I and Brax are dead, by aid of time portal machine of my own design… But not only that, the transfer through time and space has also made you physically merge with your past selves?” The Doctor paused for a moment and crossed his arms. “Well, that does rather sound like me, doesn’t it?” He reasoned thoughtfully.

“Yes, I believe My Lady’s explanation was quite clear and to the point. Now, if you are quite done stroking your ego, Brother. We still have the matter of--” Braxiatel all but snapped in irritation. It was already too late for stopping him though, The Doctor’s mind was going full throttle!

“This is brilliant!” The Doctor gushed as he reached out his hand to Rose. “Rose, may I—”

“Miss Tyler.” Rose corrected. The Doctor faltered a bit at that… Familiarity had been withdrawn. He had seen to that with his outburst and harsh words. He wanted to apologize in that moment, but words failed him. How does one express contrition properly for doing something as unprecedented as accusing an innocent person from the future of spying on you and stealing your work? He did not know. What he did know though was that he had a theory to confirm and a scientist searched for the truth at all cost. He just hoped it would not be at the cost of Rose’s good opinion and maybe it might even restore what was lost. He restated his request to Rose with the proper amendment.

“I beg your pardon, Miss Tyler. May I look at the driver…err... the key around your neck?” The Doctor asked, trying not to appear as awkward as he felt. Rose subconsciously clenched the last vestige and gift of her untainted Doctor to her chest. She hesitated. Braxiatel then spoke up, though quite softly.

“It’s all right, Rose. My brother may have all the social grace of a womprat, but he can be trusted with your trinket.” Braxiatel reassured and encouraged her gently. Rose impulsively looked to Romana too, who nodded her assent. Rose at length removed the silver chain around her neck and held up the key to him like a pendulum. The Doctor reached his arm over so that his hand was underneath the key and Rose dropped it into his waiting palm.

“Thank you,” The Doctor smiled, “I know that was not easy for you.” Rose did not return his smile. The Doctor swallowed a bit hard and opted to escape the tense mood by diverting his attention back into his palm. The Doctor rolled the “key” between his fingers very careful, as if looking for something very specific. He then paused.

“Oh, I am clever.” The Doctor murmured to himself. He then flipped a tiny catch on the key to reveal even tinier, very familiar circuitry. The Doctor gave a whoop and all but knocked over his chair as he shot up!

“This IS one of my future drivers! This circuitry here is made out of metal I haven’t finished developing yet! You can’t steal what doesn’t exist or has not been thought up of yet.”

“Convinced now that it wasn’t stolen?” Groused Rose, extending her open palm for him to hand it back to her. He hesitated. He knew what the outcome needed to be to be able to satisfy his curiosity, but he was unsure how to beg such a boon after his prior behavior towards Rose. He did not need future knowledge of Rose though to know she was just as clever and curious too. He could try appealing to that and hope her curiosity was stronger than her displeasure with him. But no, somehow, that just felt manipulative and he had already sank enough in his own estimation of himself in regards to Rose without adding more of Rose’s ill opinion on to the pile. No, he would just have to be honest. He handed her back the device and she instantly put it back around her neck, visibly relieved to have back. He would have almost felt overwhelmed, humbled by the honor of knowing such a fortuitous person held any gift from any version of him so precious. At least, if it did not also remind him that it was all the more precious to her because it was from a version of him she missed and he might never again be in her eyes. He swallowed and began.

“Miss Tyler, provided Her Lady Romana’s kind offer to provide me with access to such facilities still stands after my abominable behavior… I am under no misconception that I have done nothing to earn it, but I would be honored to submit to any of your terms if you would accompany me back the laboratory wing of the Citadel and bring your key. As I feel that there could be information stored on it. But this is all, of course, conjecture and I have no way of guaranteeing there is anything on it.” The Doctor stopped short of making as enticing a statement as him believing that the information could be crucial to Romana’s cause. He knew himself and he could not perceive any version of himself not taking advantage of sending helpful information back along with his friends if he could no longer protect them. Again, that was just him guessing though. He could have died before putting anything important on it or might not have had to means to anymore if something as sophisticated as that devise Rose has only every used and known to be a key. He neither wanted to get Rose’s hopes up nor all but make her feel obligated, forced by duty, to agree to have him experiment on it. His piece said, The Doctor then bowed and patiently awaited the replies of both ladies. 

Romana would be lying if she said she was not as eager as or more so than The Doctor to know what, if anything, was stored on that devise. However, she held her tongue. This was to be Rose’s decision and if necessary, Romana would find another way that did not ask her dear friend to retraumatize herself. It would be difficult, but she would somehow see to it that Rose and The Doctor interacted with each other as little as possible, if necessary. Romana’s worries were a bit unfounded though. Rose was every bit as curious as The Doctor believed her to be. If her Doctor had information or a there was the chance of a message for her being on that devise, then she wanted to know what it was.

“I will go with you. But if I do, I have, for now, one vital term.” Rose began.

“Yes, please, again, whatever terms you wish--” The Doctor replied, a bit too eagerly. Rose interrupted him.

“Only I can look at whatever is stored on this key.” Rose stated flatly. There might never have been a time in which The Doctor’s spirits had looked quite so deflated so fast. What he was about to do hurt the scientist in him down to the very depths of his soul, but he did not hesitate.

“I submit to your term and any future ones.” He vowed humbly. Braxiatel and Romana exchanged brief, surprised glances with each other. The Doctor… Agree to remain ignorant of, abstain from learning, possible advanced, future knowledge that was literally across the table from him? Neither could recall seeing the likes of it! Braxiatel was particularly flummoxed. Just how great an impression had Rose Tyler, in the brief “dreams” and briefer introduction with the genuine article, made on Thete for him rushing to do anything she asked? Romana seemed likeminded in Braxiatel’s thinking, which was good. Although Brax felt an urge to confront his brother about his intension towards Rose, he felt strongly that, if either of them had an unimposing interest in Rose’s welfare, it was Romana. He would not dare step on her toes to fill those shoes.

The look in Romana’s eye that mirrored Braxiatel’s was soon replaced with what he was beginning to recognize as her getting stately, getting-down-to-business demeanor.

“You will not be making use of the facilities in the laboratory wing at the Citadel.” Romana began. The Doctor looked momentarily crestfallen at that, but then Romana continued, “You will instead be making use of my own private facilities attached to my apartments. I have only ever used it for recreational science, but it is fully kitted out and any modifications you need can be made. As the brother of my soon-to-be-announced fiancé, no one will question you visiting my home up until the wedding.” Romana stated in all seriousness, without even a blush at speaking of her technically still unofficial nuptials as a certainty. Both Lungbarrow brothers though, may have had to suppress, with varying degrees of success, their own squeaks of surprise at the tone of confidence in her voice. “I have reason to believe that there may be some dirty dealings going on in the Capitol right now. If that key had future knowledge, I want it to be safely away from the eavesdropping ears of other scientists in that wing. And I want to be able to keep an eye on all of you and all of you likewise me.” Romana concluded. The end of her sentence seemed a bit out of place, oddly worded, but to Braxiatel, he understood her anxious meaning with crystal clarity. He said nothing on that topic though.

“That sounds like an excellent plan, My Lady. Of course, until the engagement is official, I will have to escort my brother to your residence everyday to avoid curious looks. Rose looked like for half, a moment she wanted to tease Braxiatel with a comment like “Oh, how ever shall you managed having an excuse to see Romana every day?” Rose’s concern with her own dilemma overrode that impulse though. As a resident for the foreseeable future of Romana’s apartments, this meant she would likely be seeing The Doctor everyday without fail. If this Doctor of the past was anything like her Doctor in the future, the man had to be practically forced to take a day off! However, since she was the one to set the rules now, she tried to feel more confident in being able to face whatever challenges with this new Doctor lied ahead. Rose took a deep breath.

“No time like the present then. Let’s get started.” With that, Rose rose from her chair and Braxiatel got up to assist her. Rose took his hand and the pair of them headed toward the opening of the tent. Braxiatel briefly looked back for Romana’s leave to leave. Romana nodded and turned to The Doctor.

“Before we go, Doctor, I would like a private word with you.” Romana’s sentence was not a request.

“Miss Rose and I will secure transport back to the Citadel at the Watch Tower. We shall wait for you there. It being so late in the day now, I would much prefer not to walk back through the woods and through town.” Braxiatel announced. Romana nodded her agreement, but did not turn her head away from The Doctor. With Rose and Braxiatel gone, Romana did not mince words with her old friend.

“I realize that it is a bit early in your acquaintance with Miss Rose Tyler. But as her friend, I must know, what are your present intensions with her?” Romana asked.

“The same as they were in the future, I imagine?” The Doctor said without thinking, not expecting an interrogation from Romana at all!

“Doctor, Rose was a time traveler, albeit an unwilling one, before all this started. Rose was only a little older than she is now in the future that I come from and you were a grizzled, old man. An elderly mentor figure to her more than anything else.” Romana said bluntly. The Doctor balked at that, staring at Romana stupidly.

“An elder…?” He said at last.


	15. Rough Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor needs to calm down and Leela needs to find a "chaperone".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, had a migraine. Might need to proof this again. Enjoy. Let me know what you like. I could use an upper. Thanks!

The Doctor wondered why this possibility had not occurred to him sooner: in the future he was an old man and Rose was a young woman! Then again, if young Rose existed thirty years in the past, his current present, it was only natural for him to assume that Rose had been thirty years older in the future, just like him. And, just like Romana was then restored to her former youth. Moreover, it seemed to him, no matter how late in their lives they had met up, he would have been a futuristic fool not to have pursued Rose as scientific colleague. He also would have been completely, bone-dead stupid not to, at some point after getting to know her, not to have pursued her romantically! …Provided she was a willing participant, of course. But no, if she was a nineteen year old thrown forward through time and he was aged well past his additional thirty years… He imagined that he probably only ever looked at Rose in a platonic, guardian-role, sort of light… He stopped just short of calling it “paternal” because it just made him cringe to think of it. Rose thinking of him as a fatherly figure… A father not only accusing her of horrible things, but also maybe quite visibly fancying her only moment earlier! Nope, nope. He had to have been just her sentry and laboratory partner in that war-torn world. 

Heaven help him, The Doctor still thought he was going to be sick! Rose must have been simply disgusted by the very sight of him now! For the second time that day, The Doctor felt his stomach drop! His first instinct was to look for a proper receptacle in which to lose his lunch! Then, remembering there was only grass beneath his feet, he hurried to the edge of the tent and proceeded to be just as sick as he feared he would there.

Romana, to her credit, did not cringe at the disgusting sounds and smell. She just patiently waited until he seemed finished and handed him a glass of water that was left full on the table to wash out the sick.

“Doctor, please calm yourself. I know how speedily your mind works and I should have thought of that when I spoke. Particularly after seeing how obviously captivated you are by a kindhearted person as exceptional as Rose. I am sorry I caused you anxiety to this extreme degree.” Romana apologized, rubbing his shoulder sympathetically. The Doctor gently shooed away such a comforting gesture. He did not want another person to feel bad regarding this ugly mess of a situation he had made for himself. He wanted to feel it all himself as he felt he ought to feel it.

“No, no. It was good that you told me now before I made any more of a fool of myself in front of Miss Tyler. I understand how it is now and I will only engage her with the utmost propriety and respect. I thank you, Lady Romana…” The Doctor said, genuinely trying to show his gratitude despite how miserable he felt and sounded. He was also thankful now that his Bad Wolf, if true to her word, would not be visiting him anymore. If he was to be tortured by the sight of her rosy mirror image while awake… It would kill him to continue on being any bit as intimate as he had been with Bad Wolf in the world of his dreams.

“No, Doctor,” Romana pressed firmly, wanting his active mind’s undivided attention. “You may be too close to the problem to notice, but as a studier of Rose for years and an outside observe, Rose does not think of you as an elderly mentor now and that is the problem.”

“I beg your pardon?” The Doctor puzzled.

“Rose is very much attracted, at least before you mucked it up a bit, to this younger version of yourself and she does not know what to do about it. Since we arrived, she could not wait to see her dearest friend returned to her from the grave. And then, when she finally sees you again, you are this, as Rose would put it, ‘rather fit bloke’. She is very confused about her feelings right now… So naturally, she would be especially upset when you compounded that with her now thinking you are some rude git who hates her—”

“I don’t hate her! That’s why I acted so stupidly when I thought she, the Bad Wolf, tricked me by creeping into my dreams. Taking advantage of me when I was at my most vulnerable and open… Because I think I might be falling in—” The Doctor objected until Romana interrupted. Romana was not going to hear such words from The Doctor before the individual who inspired them did.

“Yes, you keep mentioning the Bad Wolf, which we will go into great detail about in the very near future. But the point now of this conversation is that, if you care for Rose in that way then you better earn her friendship and confidence again. Show her, with no expectations, the kind, feeling, ardent, young man you are in the here and now. Rose is a smart woman. She will figure out her feelings for you. Believe in her and yourself. You are not condemned beyond hope by your past mistakes or governed by the hellish future that has been presented to you, Doctor. You have the power now to change it!” Romana finished with a bit of a waver in her voice. The Doctor looked at her curiously.

“Was that last bit more you trying to convince me or yourself?” He asked kindly. Romana almost gasped at this clear reading of her inner, prophetic fears. Romana sighed and sat on the ground, unable to support herself, much less while on her haunches, anymore. She brought her knees up to her chest and folded her arms over her kneecaps before resting her forehead upon them.

“Yes, Doctor…” Was all Romana said in reply.

“I know I am a bit rubbish as of lately when it comes to taking in disturbing news, but I hope if you need help or a confidant, you will talk to me like you did when we went traveling together for bit. Or if not, I hope you are unburdening your pain in the company of my brother.” The Doctor smiled a bit timidly.

“I thank you, Doctor. I will and I am. I seem uncharacteristically lucky to have your brother’s care and cooperation in all this. And I am glad to find that I still have yours, no matter when I am.” Roman smiled.

“Always.” The Doctor promised as he got up. He reached out his hand and helped, with any luck (for his brother had the potential to be just as a big a screw-up as him), his future sister off the ground. The two of them composed themselves and started heading outside. The Doctor’s calm face then grimaced a bit like he had a foul taste in his mouth, because he still did. “Oh, I hope no one will be able to smell the sick on my breath. Those transports are a bit close quarters.” The Doctor moaned, only half serious with his worry. It seemed he was trying to lighten the mood by airing out his vanity a bit. Anyone else would have laughed and left it at that, but not Romana. She was a problem solver.

“I believe I saw some mint tea still unopened back by the picnic blanket. You might grab it on our way back to the Watch Tower. Strong stuff. Expect nothing less of Braxiatel.” Romana replied with a conspiratorial, but nonetheless jovial tone. She always knew The Doctor was much more serious about his appearance than he would ever have her believe. And she was right.

“Oh, Lady Romanadvoratrelundar. You are brilliant.” The Doctor beamed as he hurried back to the blanket to retrieve his makeshift mouthwash!

“Leela, is it really necessary to take the leader of this band of miscreants back with us to the Capitol? We barely have room enough for the both of us.” Andred inquired concernedly from on top of his easily reacquired ride. Leela had not been needed to act as a diversion or cover for Andred since the bandits in the camp were all heavily sleeping by one means or another. The bulk of Leela’s time escorting Andred to his ride was spent gathering up her enemies’ unattended weapons as she passed. Leela kept the ones she liked and tossed the others into a brook that ran along the outer edge of the camp where Andred and the other transports were parked. By the end of her disarmament, most of the weapons on that side of the camp were either rendered muddily obscured in water or broken and useless. Judging by how little Leela actually kept, most were either Leela’s weaponry standards were too high or her enemies’ standards were just too low.

“We have to take the leader. You heard his underling. This was an assassination paid for by someone of high status in Gallifrey. We would be missing an opportunity if we do not take with us the one person who could identify your true, cowardly enemy.” Leela explained as she examined a nice, sharp knife she just swiped off a passed-out-drunk guard, which she definitely intended to keep in this case. Leela was then prepared to leave to find her prey, but paused and looked back to Andred. “Is there anything you would like me to look out for among our enemies’ supplies while I retrieve their leader?” Leela asked.

“Right now, I think I’d kill for a bit of whatever they planned on eating for breakfast this morning. ” Andred confessed as his stomach grumbled. This was quite an encouraging sign for Leela and it pleased her. Before, she had to remind or encourage Andred to eat. But now, he was thinking about food on his own! He must be starting to feel better. Leela brandished her new knife proudly, maybe showing off a bit.

“I would rather you stay here and not overexert yourself again. You are well on your way to recovery and I am eager to see your warrior prowess when your health is fully restored. So please allow your body a bit more time to rest and leave any killing to me in the meantime.” Leela assured him as she started to head out for the heart of the camp. Andred was in a bit of a daze after Leela so causally mentioning her interest in seeing his full extent of his skills as a soldier. Was he supposed to take that comment at face value or was she the one flirting with him this time? He did not want to get too excited about how well things seemed to be going with this impressive warrior, but maybe… Then Andred recalled that Leela tended to take his words quite seriously and, at times, literally! Worried, he thought on what his careless words could have all but encouraged her to do to in order to acquire his breakfast! Practically stumbling over the edge of his ride, he immediately made it known to Leela that, although he was very hungry, he was not THAT hungry. He at length encouraged her, if she were to go out of her way to make any eatable acquisitions, to be careful and…

“Try not to kill anyone, Leela.” Andred requested with a nervous smile and as loud as he dared, not really knowing what else to say. Leela paused.

“I will try.” She promised as best she could with an amused smile. Andred was the one to pause now. However, before he could comment further, she was already off to find the biggest bandit with the biggest bump on his head, courtesy of her yesterday, in the camp. Alone again, Andred began to wonder if Leela really had been flirting with him all this little while or not. To him at least right now, it seemed quite possible that perhaps the pupil had already surpassed the feeble instructor in flirting… Because, when she smiled like that at him, he felt like he was well out of his league.

True to her word, Leela sneaked through the camp like a specter. She was neither heard nor seen by anyone and there had been no need for her to kill anyone. It was child’s play after thirty years in a war zone. Finding her mark was even easier. The leader was in the largest tent in the most comfortable spot in the camp: right near the hearth. Just as she predicted from any leader who led by force: they expected and demanded only the best for themselves and not for their underlings. Pleasingly, it seemed that the brute was still dealing with the aftermath of Leela’s earlier counterattack. He was sleeping feverishly and seemed as aware of his surroundings as a sleeping, newborn babe. Leela made quick work tying him up and gagging him. Although, she completed this task with decidedly less ease than she had when she subdued his slighter framed, hidey-hole-crashing underling. The most difficult part of this whole kidnapping business thought was dragging him back to Andred transport. The quasi-unconscious brute was heavier than what Leela’s pre-war muscles were accustomed to hauling. As irritatingly slow going as Leela’s moving of her prisoner was, it still did not stop her from her second objective: breakfast. She found it easily enough, snatching a large loaf of bread, some cheese and some meat as she doubled back to her awaiting friend in their getaway ride.

Andred was more than ready to “get away” by the time Leela had made it back. However, his sense of urgency to leave did not stop him from noting and being thoroughly impressed all-around by Leela amazingly successful mission. 

“Ah, good hunting! I see you brought our chaperone and everything.” Andred quipped with a grin.

“Are we in need of a chaperone for this trip?” Leela puzzled curiously as she dumped her prisoner into a spot meant for small cargo and was the furthest away from the driver’s seat and Andred. It seemed she wanted to be a barrier between him and person who had wished him harm. The inquisitive look still on Leela’s face when she turned around to face Andred seemed to denote that she had not caught on to his witty, flirty banter at all… Right, looks like flirting for Leela was still mostly unabashed honesty based. Andred attempted to clarify. 

“Um, no, we don’t need a chaperone exactly. I was just—”

“Flirting again?” Helped Leela as she proceeded to sit down next to Andred. “Well, do not be discouraged, Andred. The effort is appreciated and like all skills… If are not failing, you are not trying hard enough to improve.” Leela comforted him, although Andred wished that felt more comforted by her words than he did at present. Then again, she did say she appreciated the hard work. 

As they settled in the start out on their journey, it became even more evident that Leela clearly saw the danger in traveling with someone bent on killing your friend. She did not take her attention off of the semi-conscious man for very long. She looked like she would have much rather eliminated the threat all together, but there was nothing for it. They needed a witness to Andred’s assassin’s treachery and Leela just had to make traveling with an enemy work. She certainly would be damned if Andred died on her watch because of this executive decision of hers. Andred, despite the danger, was quite delightfully amusing by Leela’s vigilant, protective manner considering that technically, according to his original orders from Romana, the protectiveness was supposed to be the other way around… Him safely getting Leela back to the Capitol. Nothing about this mission happened as expected. He was more than happy to deal with all the bad in exchange for all the good that had come along with it though.

“Okay, I’m just going to ease us out of here with my good arm and we’ll be on our way to the Capitol.” Andred reassured as he winced his way through getting their little traveling party a bit more mobile. After a moment longer of seeing him struggle to operate his transport, Leela quickly leaned over and tightened the restraints of her drowsy captive. Doubly certain that Andred’s head assassin had no means of hurting his target without making some noise first, she then kindly made a suggestion… It was a slight alteration in their seating arrangements.

“Andred, let me drive. Your breakfast is getting cold and I have a hand to spare for steering and one for eating.” Leela then handed him a leg of meat of some local creature. Seeing that, with his diminished arm, he could not enjoy her delicious spoils of war and transport them back to the city at the same time, Andred willingly, amusedly, got up and let Leela take his seat. Andred then sat down and started munching away at all the foodstuff Leela had brought for them.

“Infiltrating enemy camps for prisoners and supplies… AND operating Chancellery Guard transporters. Is there anything you can’t do, Leela?” Andred queried as he blew on the hotter interior of the meat he just bitten into.

“Well, I’ve watched people drive things like these over the years more often than I have actually driven them. It does not seem too difficult though.” Leela confessed as she roughly and bumpily drove them through the widest animal trail available and pulled them back out onto the main road! Andred almost lost grip of his meal with all the quite violent rocking about, but after all the insanity of the past day, he just shrugged it off. Their escape might as well end with an impromptu driver’s lesson. She only needed a slight suggestion here or there anyway and it was not like he was really concerned about Leela having an accident with anyone. Certainly not when considering how sparsely populated the area was: all wide roads lined with trees or open fields. All the same, he repeated to Leela, but this time in a much more playful tone,

“Try not to kill anyone.”


	16. Travel Plans Canceled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ride home is not going as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rose and Brax heavy.

As upset as Rose still was, she did not need to be on the arm of Irving Braxiatel for support. Nonetheless, both parties still seemed perfectly content with the arrangement for the duration of the short walk to the Watch Tower. Still, there was only one aspect about it that was strange. In Rose’s short acquaintance with the man, Braxiatel usually was quite the charming entertainer, but the master of conversation was quite quiet now. Rose did not find his silence intimidating though. He had a pleasant, easy manner about his countenance which broadcast his willingness, if Rose so wished it, to allow their companionable silence to reign supreme or be overthrown. Indeed, it was very gentlemanly of him to leave the direction of the conversation in her court. Particularly after their equal parts cold and heated exchange with Braxiatel’s brother. It brought home that, despite his familiar ties, Rose’s comfort as his guest was his first priority. Still, Rose could not help but wonder, in a presence as composed and fraternally as the one he was exuding right now, that Braxiatel was not showing some sort of favoritism towards his brother.

“I must confess my surprise at your silence, Braxiatel. I half expected you to argue your brother suit and champion his finer points to me as a research partner.” Rose gruffly owned.

“Oh, I would never encourage any lady I respected to pursue any of House Lungbarrow’s stock as any sort of partner.” Braxiatel said quite jovially and in such a manner that Rose was not certain that he was entirely serious or not. Unfortunately, before the uneasy feeling of not knowing if he was joking set in, Rose could not help but instantly laugh aloud at this unexpectedly indelicate reply. That is, until her brilliant mind, not unlike The Doctor’s, began to over think the observant Irving Braxiatel’s meaning behind his words.

Had her commoner, juvenile self really made as big a spectacle of herself as she thought she had when presented with the handsome, younger face of The Doctor? And seeing this, Braxiatel was now trying to discourage her from any passing fancies or designs on his flighty brother? How embarrassing! Then again, maybe she was just overthinking Braxiatel’s words. Well, there were ways she could test that theory. Yes, she was a scientist, granted one matriculated in the field… of battle… rather than a university, but a scientist nonetheless! Desiring to first lighten the mood and partly wanting to bring her perceived attention away from her girlish heart, Rose almost resolved to turn Braxiatel’s words around on him. She certainly could then see if he still stood by those same words. After all, if he truly believed such things about his own kinfolk, then it would be more than reasonable to note his hypocrisy… Or at least his divine, good fortune in that Romana saw fit to pursue him as a life partner and most especially without his “encouragement”. Otherwise he would have been condemned to the life of a bachelor, never to have so fine a bride as Lady Romana. An interminable fate considering, of the two people’s hearts present, it was no guarded secret who was the sole resident of his noble heart. However, since both of them were now quite aware of the sort of future that had laid before him as a result to such lowly estimations of himself and inaction… Such words from Rose, even in jest, would be most cruel to Braxiatel.

Now that Rose thought on it with a calmer mind, Braxiatel’s present thoughts must have not been too far from that understanding. If not for Romana, Irving Braxiatel never would have had her. Even now, with future knowledge and knowing Romana was in no way repelled by him, Braxiatel probably still thought a disgraced Lungbarrow like him an undeserving cad for potentially dragging down a Heartshaven with him again. Maybe he thought even lower of himself than before now that he had a far more intimate way this time around to risk harm onto Romana in this mad gambit to change the future… What utter rubbish! So Rose chose to interpret Braxiatel’s words not as a warning to her, or self-deprecating joke on his part, but rather a sign of a friend in need of reassurance.

“Well, it seems I will have to be on my guard regarding Lungbarrows nonetheless. I think you still managed to somehow do all necessary brotherly defending today. ‘Cause, you see, if all House Lungbarrow’s ‘stock’ turn out to be as courteous and considerate to their detriment as you are… A woman decidedly against entangling herself with a Lungbarrow after a first interview might think it worth hazarding a second glace… at their CV when looking for a lab partner.” Rose smiled, awkwardly adding the last bit at the end for safety. Braxiatel smiled back, but unlike before, the smile did not reach his eyes.

“Rose, you are a most charming creature to flatter me thus. Although I fear, in your unguarded generosity, you may have confirmed my fearful suspicions that you are the reckless sort of lady to kindly give one of my house a second examination.” Braxiatel replied, patting her arm back. Rose’s present penchant for over thinking subtext aside, she did laugh at that without trepidation.

“Yes, which is unadvisable, like you said. Worry not, your good advice had not fallen on completely inattentive ears. Thank you, Braxiatel.” Rose teased in an accent denoting her newly obtained “enlightenment” on the suitability of Lungbarrows as life partners. And the subject was dropped.

Upon entering the small compound that was the Watch Tower, Braxiatel lead Rose to where their ride home was located. Their conversation had since traveled to a subject that was of interest to both of them: Romana. The more Braxiatel spoke of Romana’s “early days” of being a contender in the High Council, the more intrigued Rose became. Although this was mostly due to Rose’s joy for Romana in having further confirmation that the man had been fascinated by her before all this chronologically impossible mess began. Rose had thought as much. Likewise to Rose’s inquiries into Romana’s past, Braxiatel seemed unable to learn enough about Romana from Rose’s future prospective. This was why Rose was quite surprised when Braxiatel’s demeanor suddenly became very stern.

Braxiatel was displeased and on the edge of what seemed like a near fury to Rose She could not imagine what could have inspired such emotions in him so quickly. However, Rose followed his eyes’ line of sight and it became quickly apparent that whatever had caused this change in Braxiatel was waiting for them, casually leaning up against what would be their transport home.

“Torvald.” Braxiatel stated tersely to the Chancellery guardsman. The man did not stand at attention or salute, which Rose thought strange at first. She had not been in the company of Romana’s security detail for very long, but from what she had heard and seen, they were always very polite and respectable. Then again, she was just a commoner and Braxiatel from a somewhat defunct noble line just building up their reputation again. Maybe such reverential attentions were reserved only for the royal family and the treatment of anyone else was otherwise left to the discretion of the individual guard. It was disappointing, but Rose supposed that not all guards could be as charming as Captain Andred. “I thought it was agreed upon with His Majesty that no security detail was required for this excursion today.” Braxiatel almost accused, though his voice was never marred with a note of anger.

“There is not. It is just me and I am merely the driver to take you back to the Capitol.” Torvald explained, unaware or concerned that he may have attracted Braxiatel’s disapproval.

“Yes, I thank you for your troubles, but your services are unnecessary. I shall be driving us home. I thank you, **Acting** Captain Torvald.” Braxiatel bowed politely, though there was nothing polite about it. 

Rose observed the entire exchange curiously. So this man, “Torvald”, was the replacement captain for Andred’s security detail while he was out looking for Leela.

“Then I shall at least have to ride with your party. Surely you understand that no Heartshaven would approve of any of the royal family to be left open to ambush.” Torvald offered. Braxiatel stared at Torvald silently for an uncomfortably long moment.

“No, I suppose they would not.” He flatly agreed. Braxiatel then turned to Rose.

“Miss Tyler, unless you need to use the facilities ere we go, might I help you up into your seat?” Braxiatel inquired, all flawless politeness again. Rose was not oblivious and knew that there was some sort of discontent between these two men. She could only imagine what it could possibly be though. She would just have to keep her eyes and ears open since Braxiatel did not seem in any hurry to provide explanation. As much as an ego she assumed such a man like Braxiatel must have when it came to his fighting abilities… She somehow doubted such a reaction from Braxiatel was just from his wounded pride at the king changing his mind on how capable he thought Braxiatel was of guarding a potential heir to the throne in his company. 

Rose had hoped that a man seemingly as arrogant as Torvald would keep talking and give his sorted history with Braxiatel away. Unfortunately, the man was annoyingly quiet after one too many scathing looks from Braxiatel. Not that she blamed him when faced with a Lungbarrow scowl. And the man exasperatingly only hushed up more once Romana and The Doctor finally caught up with them.

Romana was a bit confused when her eyes first caught a flash scarlet of a Chancellery Guardsman uniform. Her thoughts must have been similar to Braxiatel’s upon first seeing the guard standing by their ride home… Though judging by her expression, her thoughts were obviously not as heightened with irritation as Braxiatel. Not that she was not irritated. Romana was not particularly looking forward to whatever awkward seating arrangements that they would have to make going home. Even in a spacious, five-seater, there were limited seats where Rose and The Doctor could sit comfortably apart. Particularly with her and Braxiatel’s preference of The Doctor not to drive… With an added person, someone was guaranteed to be physically positioned uncomfortably on top of all the other homeward bound unpleasantness. Worse still, now there would have to be a moratorium on what they could talk about in that closed cabin. Poor Romana had desperately wanted earlier to set some ground rules for The Doctor on how to use her private lab. However she had not had the heart to bring up the topic with The Doctor making himself literally sick with fear and worry. Now that she did have a desire to set her expectations of his conduct within the walls of her lab, she did not have the privacy to do so! She might very well have no chance of warning The Doctor to behalf himself before he was set loose in her state-of-the-art laboratory like some kid in a candy shop! Ugh! She would just have to hope with Rose around they could successfully double team him and prevent him from rewiring and destroying any of her equipment.

“Lady Romanadvoratrelundar.” The guardsman bowed and looked at Romana expectantly. Romana, in that moment had the misfortune of suffering a consequence of inattention in her youth coupled with it having been so many years since she last saw the man… She could not remember the man’s name for the life of her! Braxiatel noticed her struggle and she could have kissed him for his keen observation. That is, until he took her by the hand, notable bringing her attention away from the inadvertent mystery man, kissed said appendage and then opened his mouth!

“I would never disapprove, in My Lady’s infinite magnanimousness, her addressing Commander Torvald first… But as the intended of her ladyship, I envy anyone the honor.”

“I last saw you not fifteen minutes ago, Lord Braxiatel.” Romana blushingly protested as she tried vainly to mirror his level of haughtiness.

“An interminable period of time, My Lady, I assure you.” He all but pouted as he kissed her hand again. Say what you would about his methods, Braxiatel took the attention off of her and provided her with the important bit of information she had wanted at the same time. Romana turned to the man she now knew the name and rank of at last. Looking at him, she wondered if it was his disposition or her projecting her feelings of disapproval at Braxiatel’s methods on the man’s features... For she could have sworn she saw the man grimace at Braxiatel’s ministrations in disgust.

“Commander Torvald. I’m sure I have my uncle to thank for the pleasure of your company. You must accept my apologies, but as I have both Lord Lungbarrows and Miss Tyler with me and we are already heading back to the city, I’m afraid have traveled out here needlessly.” Romana explained in hope of the man, through hint or self-interest at the prospect of being relieved of duty early, would leave and not travel back with them. No such luck was to be had today though.

“That works out lovely, My Lady. As I was only assigned to accompany your party back home.” Torvald smiled. Yes, indeed that settled it. It was going to be a long, quiet ride home with Torvald. Yes, just Romana and Braxiatel in the first seats (He did insist upon driving.) and Torvald, and his bulky, red armor, taking up and crowding into the areas beyond the middle seat… An awkward, living partition between The Doctor and Rose.


	17. Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Braxiatel and Torvald have a casual conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoot! I was determined to get this one out tonight! I am really eager to know what you think of this one ^_^

  
Many things were off about the ride home. It was not a quiet trip in the slightest despite Rose’s actively trying not to be the first one to interact with The Doctor. The Doctor was having an animated conversation with Torvald. Well, more like The Doctor was talking at Torvald than Torvald was contributing his thoughts. Torvald was not enjoying being The Doctor’s captive audience in the least. Rose could not help but snicker inwardly a bit to herself. She had to admit she found enjoyment in seeing the rude man sweat a bit under The Doctor’s barrage of questions and factoids regarding Torvald job as a Chancellery Guard. Torvald answered in monosyllables as much as possible or gave the standard, “That is Top Secret.” Torvald seemed to hope The Doctor would take a hint from his lack of enthusiasm to stop talking to him. The Doctor took no such hint though, much to Torvald’s abject misery.

Braxiatel also contributed to the oddness of the ride when he did not insist on The Doctor giving Torvald a break from his inquisition. On the contrary, Braxiatel seemed to silently encourage it with open ears. The more preoccupied Torvald was with his brother, the less tense Braxiatel became, but only by small measures. Concerned, Romana reached her hand over to reassuringly place on top on Braxiatel’s idle hand not needed for guiding their transporter. Then Braxiatel did something else to contribute to the overall weirdness of the trip. Not skipping a beat when Romana’s hand came to rest on top of his, he shifted his own in such a flowing motion that Romana’s hand slipped into his grasp. Surprised, though not unpleasantly so, Romana gave a return squeeze. She waited for him to release her hand, but he never did. Well, apart from moving his thumb so he could rub circles on the back of her hand. Romana had never held anyone’s hand quite like this before and certainly not for such a long duration of time. Her lack in hand holding protocol made her equal parts nervous and thrilled. She began to wonder if she should hold on or let go before her nervousness became more noticeable than her happiness. 

Remembering that she was war hardened virtual queen though, she managed to calm down. Instead of focusing on her old battle with her feelings, she examined the physical aspects of this new experience. Science over emotion, just like she would when she encountered anything else that was new and unexpected. As Romana studied their point of contact: temperature, motion, pressure … She noticed something about his hand that was odd. It was well masked by his confident persona, but it was there ever so slightly: tension. Romana was not stupid, something had changed to make Braxiatel anxious and the only thing that was different, besides their new level of trust, was the presence of Commander Torvald. She wanted to ask him about it. To fill in the gaps she was missing about the man. Though, of course, she could not do that in Torvald’s presence. So at length, at least for now, Romana decided to let pursuing the reason he seemed so reluctant to release her hand go.

Much to Braxiatel’s thinly veiled displeasure, Torvald insisted that he see Romana and her party to her apartments. And since Torvald trailed behind to watch Romana’s group’s rear as they entered the secure, royal residence side of the Citadel, Braxiatel insisted that he do the same.

“Having your tinkering, little brother at her ladyship’s front? I’m surprised you would not rather stay by her side to guard her yourself, sir. Being how convinced you seemed earlier only you could keep her safe.” Torvald mused with a strange ease of manner. 

“I’ve checked the guard schedule and I noticed you’re off the clock, Commander.” Braxiatel stated unaffected. Torvald chuckled lightly.

“True, Lord Braxiatel. Would it be shameful for me to say I do it more out of fear for my own sake than that of her ladyship? I want to make sure I hand her ladyship safely off to the next shift myself. Captain Andred would have my hide, and I would be lucky if he only demoted me, if anything were to happen to her while I was covering for him.” Confessed Torvald with a concerned tone that did not show at all in his expression.

“Yes…” Braxiatel replied dryly, it was definitely not a word of agreement.

“I only wished I knew when Captain Andred was scheduled to return. It is quite an irregular situation I find myself in all around… Captain Lord Andredaselus Redlooms suddenly taking and for Lady Romanadvoratrelundar to equally as hastily authorize his taking of a trip out of town. And with the good captain so rarely taking days off, he could potentially be gone quite a long while with the number of vacation days he has accumulated over the years.” Torvald wondered to himself. Pondering in such a manner as to suggest he suspected that, if he were to inquire about the captain’s departure and return time, Braxiatel could answer.

“I am afraid you will have to take up such musings with Lady Romanadvoratrelundar herself. At the moment, I am but a lowly lord bidding for the hand of the most gracious lady and am not yet privy to such information.” Braxiatel lamented condescendingly.

“You really are an opportunistic bastard, aren’t you Brax? I only hope this is part of one of your little schemes and there is no other treachery involved. It’ll do you no good.” Torvald muttered under his breath. Braxiatel smiled, but looked like he wanted to do anything but as they turned the last bend of corridors leading to Romana’s home.

“Listen, I am under no illusion as to why you are really here, ‘Commander’. There is no need to remind me. But for a man of your background, I think you will agree with me that you have already said far too much in the open air. So any more of your idle gossip will have to wait until-- Ah! Wynter!” Braxiatel’s dark countenance could have blinded a man considering how suddenly it lit up at the sight of the young, guardsman presently escorting Romana through her door. 

Fresh out of the Academy, Wynter was already a very bright-eyed and eager soldier. So seeing that a practically infamous yet highly decorated soldier like Braxiatel was both happy to see and actually remembering Wynter’s name… That only made Wynter’s friendly disposition worse.

“Good evening, sir!” Wynter greeted, trying to look as tall and at attention as possible.

“Wynter, have you met Commander Torvald yet? I know he was assigned acting captain for Captain Lord Andredaselus Redlooms quite suddenly.” Braxiatel asked amicably pulling more than guiding Torvald in front the young man. As predicted, Wynter began to engage in a conversation describing to his superior everything that he was doing to secure the area without giving away anything helpful to anyone unauthorized who could be listening. In the time that Wynter delayed Torvald, the automatic door leading into the antechamber for Romana’s apartments had swished shut. This development did not seem to bother Braxiatel in the least. In fact, he was counting on it.

Braxiatel began to gently, but quickly tap his fingers all over the control pad for the door before stepping back to join the conversation.

“Well, I do not know about you, Commander, but I am certainly impressed on how thorough a job Wynter is doing right out of the Academy. He must be the pride of his instructors.” Braxiatel interjected and actually sounded the most sincere that he had been for his entire tête-à-tête with Torvald.

“Thank you, sir.” Wynter tried not to gush and Torvald tried not to gag. Ignoring Torvald, Braxiatel continued.

“Now, if you would excuse us. I have a previous engagement to attend to with the commander.”

“Yes, of course, sir.” Wynter replied, more than appreciating such a busy man’s condescension to pause and talk to a newbie soldier like himself. Braxiatel made to “guide” Torvald again, this time away from Wynter… and the door. Torvald was having none of it though and shifted out of his grasp.

“Just a moment, Lord Braxiatel. Before we go, I need to speak with her ladyship.” Torvald stepped in front of the door, but it did not open. Slightly confused, he went to the control pad and typed in his access code. The door remained tightly sealed. Torvald realized then what had happened.

“What have you done? I can’t pass the door and my code is the master command code! I should have gained admittance.” Torvald accused.

“Oh, just a precautionary thing, Commander. Surely you must understand my anxiety for Lady Romanadvoratrelundar in both of our absences. So I updated the security protocol for her apartment.”

“Without the proper codes to get in, her rooms are a literal fortress! How are any of her security detail supposed to get in to do their job if no one can get in or out?”

“Lady Romanadvoratrelundar can come and go as she pleases and admit anyone she wishes, but permission is only admitted at **_her_** _command_ and no one else’s. It’s not so concerning an alteration. Do your job proper out here and you will have no need to go inside there.”

“Quite clever, sir.” Piped up Wynter happily, but soon confusedly piped back down when he noticed the scathing look on Torvald’s face. Braxiatel, unconcerned by Torvald’s ever souring mood, nonchalantly examined his cuticles and sighed.

“Now, I would like to have the opportunity of joining my friends for a late dinner, Commander. So might we get this over with sometime this era?”

“Fine!” exclaimed Torvald throwing his hands up in the air after his third failed attempt to override Braxiatel’s edit in the security code. The two then walked off together.

Inside the antechamber of Romana’s apartments, she of course noticed that Braxitel had not followed them in. She wanted to head back out and retrieve him. She had questions her mind had been itching for relief for the entire ride home. However, she soon forgot that itch for a spell when she heard the sound of absolute glee from The Doctor… Come from her old, beloved, long-lost and now temporally restored to her laboratory down another hallway… Followed by a loud crash! Romana ran like a worried mother to save whatever was left of her lab!  
“Doctor! Rose! Don’t let him touch anything!” Romana shouted.


	18. The Scent of Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Braxiatel pays an unexpected visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible cheating trigger warning?

Irving Braxiatel and Torvald were not taking the path generally traveled by servants or ordinary peerage. This is why the pair of them generally and often enjoyed arriving at this particular destination without detection. In Braxiatel’s case as of late, this was a most fortunate favor. Torvald took the lead once they passed the entrance and arrived into an antechamber. Braxiatel allowed himself to be led since, at the moment, he did not know where to find their person of interest within this maze of a home. The place was immaculate, but he always thought that the disjointed layout of the apartments spoke volumes of the state of its occupant’s mind: complex and not one to think as others. It was part of the reason why he took interest in their development at the Academy. Back then, he had become, although briefly, a teacher, before he his father’s disgrace forced him to join the military again. 

“In there.” Pointed Torvald as he made to leave back out the direction from whence they had come. “I trust you can manage from here?” Torvald sneered.

“Yes, do not stay a moment longer on my account. Not everybody can handle the double life as well as others. I imagine you need your rest. If you are headed to the CIA office after this, do say ‘hello’ to Coordinator Narvin for me, Agent.” Braxiatel smiled, but Torvald only glared at him before leaving in a huff. “Oh, and Agent Torvald.” called back Braxiatel like an afterthought. “I hope we are of an understanding that, while you are in charge of Lady Romanadvoratrelundar’s security detail… If any harm comes to so much as one hair on My Lady’s head and ruins my future prospects, I will end you.” He ended with the most sinister, yet sincere smirk that Torvald have ever seen grace a person. The man hated showing any sign of weakness in front of anyone, especially Irving Braxiatel, but he could not help but shiver at that smiling devil’s promise. Torvald then finally left and quite in a hurry. Braxiatel then headed into the aforementioned room.

“I was beginning to think you would never come, Irving.” Called a bell like, but disappointed voice from the entrance of a laboratory, which was not unlike the facility that Romana had in her own private rooms. Braxiatel bowed as he walked further into the large, high ceiled room. 

“‘Tutor’ or ‘Lord Braxiatel’, if you please…” He stated politely yet still curtly, “And there are far less conspicuous means of getting my attention other than sending that idiot, Torvald, to fetch me, My Lady.” It was no secret now that Braxiatel was quite annoyed. Leaning out from behind a rather large piece of machinery came an oddly elegantly dressed woman, considering it was a lab and messy accidents involving clothing could happen. The woman was not only elegantly dressed, but also had elegant features with striking blue eyes that rivaled those of Braxiatel. Her mesmerizing eyes were framed by long, dark hair. Her hair was much lighter than his own, but had a similar, pleasing, natural wave about it as his shorter ebony locks. They made quite an agreeable pair to gaze upon. She smiled impishly as she put down her work gloves, tools, and rounded the corner of her project to meet Braxiatel for a little tête-à-tête regarding the appropriate means in which to garner his attention.

“Oh, so I do not have to put out more now that I find you unexpectedly attached to another Heartshaven?” She inquired coyly as she just as unexpectedly wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply and square on the mouth! Braxiatel did not repel her advance, but neither did he respond to it. Noticing his lack of obvious encouragement and enthusiasm, she paused and smiled against his lips.

“Truly like kissing an icicle. I wonder what it would take to melt it?” she mused.

“Do be serious, Lady Imperiatrix. I saw an opportunity with your cousin and I took it.” Braxiatel protested rather blandly with a casual shrug.

“Whatever for?” Imperiatrix questioned, “You know she will never be elected Queen. I’ve seen to her being considered far too unpopular in Council to --” She did not get a chance to finish that sentence. Even if Torvald was a double agent working for Lady Imperiatrix, Braxiatel did not hold it pass the man to terry around her apartments and catch either of them in a compromising conversation. 

“The walls may have ears even in here, **Highness**.” Braxiatel practically sang in irritation.

“Oh, I **love** it when you call me that.” She cooed teasingly.

“Somehow I doubt you would indulge in such a feeble emotion.” Braxiatel drawled.

“Then I feel for my poor, little cousin, Romana… For I think the same could be supposed about you humoring such feelings.” She murmured as she mirrored his stance perfectly before shrugging. “Still, I wish you all the joy of marital felicity.” She definitely did not.

“Now, I imagine you have a reason for calling me away from my betrothed other than jealousy?” Braxiatel interjected, already weary with the direction that this conversation was heading. Goodness knows, when he first saw her potential at the Academy to be the next great queen of their nation, he never imagined such a topic as this to be exchanged between them. Then again, he had been thinking that far too often during their meetings of the minds as of late.

“Forgive me, Irving. You know how much I love getting inside your head.” She chortled. That comment he found disturbing.

“Don’t even joke about that. So, is it finished then?” Done beating around the bush.

“Oh, I’m in the trial period. You know, testing on animals and other undesirable creatures.” She hinted. “But my prospects look about as promising as yours right now. Maybe I won’t even need insurance regarding my cousin’s actions if you are the right kind of husband I need you to be and keep her in check.”

“I know you seriously could not have put in all this time and effort just to control the mind of your little cousin.” Braxiatel replied.

“I would be lying if I said I have not considered it. But if she can be so easily manipulated into thinking someone as cold and calculating as you were capable of loving her… It might be more sensible to direct my efforts elsewhere.” She wondered aloud. If Braxiatel looked the slightest bit relieved to hear this, Imperiatrix did not pick up on it.

“Well, if that be all, then I best get back to seeing that your cousin does not interfere or become a threat in any way.” Braxiatel suggested. Imperiatrix raised a smirking eyebrow and stared at him for a minute.

“Yes, for now, keep an eye on my cousin. And if you can manage to keep her distracted and under your thumb once you are married…” She then leaned in whispered in his ear, “When I am queen, you will be well rewarded for the inconvenience. House Lungbarrow will be the most powerful, respected family and ally to House Heartshaven.” Braxiatel gave a short, but seemingly pleased chuckle at this, but said nothing back. She put her hands on either side of Braxiatel’s face and gently moves his head from side to side to appreciate his fine plains and angles of his face.

“Hmm, although, lately, I think it might be more fun just keeping you for myself. I would love to see the look on sweet, little Romana’s face when I steal yet another precious toy from her. Ooh, such a handsome face. Dressed like that, you’d be a pretty, little fairy story if I made you my consort… You, playing the simple huntsman hero in the forest with my dear Romana and all her little friends today.” She hummed as she commented on his picnicking clothing he had yet to change out of, thanks to Torvald’s unexpected arrival. Even Braxiatel seemed disturbed now from all Lady Imperiatrix’s intimate attention and knowledge of his day, but he quickly recovered. Equally as gently, Braxiatel placed his hands over hers still resting on his face and drew her delicate fingers away from him.

“Oh, do not raise my hopes, My Lady. I know my place and how high in which I can aspire. The day you decide to make me your partner in life will be the same day you will finally take any of your old tutor’s advice.” Braxiatel countered with all his charm.

“Yes, Tutor Braxiatel, and it has not happened yet.” She laughed as she waved him off. “Go back to your little, mousy bride-to-be, Irving.” Braxiatel did not need to be told twice. He bowed and began to back out of the laboratory in a very relaxed manner. He kept the same pace down the hall and had almost even cleared her living quarters when Imperiatrix’s beautiful, smiling image appeared on his exit door’s control pad.

“Oh, and please do not worry about missing me too much while attending to my cousin, Irving. I shall be seeing the both of you very soon.” she promised and Braxiatel, quite worried now, did not doubt it. 

Back during his short-lived Academy days as an instructor, Imperiatrix had shown great promise and to such a degree that Romana, her underclassman by several years, had not even been in his periphery. Again, he had not even gotten a chance to interact or see Romana until her High Council days a few of years later. Admittedly, it was shamefully difficult to notice the bright mind of an ice maiden when so acutely focused on the genius of an ice queen. After what Romana had told him of the future though, Braxiatel was truly starting to wonder what, if any, good could come of his continued attempts to guide and influence a person who seemed on a destined, immovable path of ruin. But if Romana could change the future, then maybe he still had the power to reshape it too.

Out of Imperiatrix’s apartments, but certain he was not any safer from her jeweled clutches, Braxiatel let out a faint sigh. He loosened his tense shoulders and shook out his arms ever so minutely. She had eyes everywhere, whether they were those of machine or man. The ruffling of his clothing from his stretching almost immediately let out a waft of Lady Imperiatrix’s exquisite perfume. It was a beautiful, delicate, understated scent that matched Lady Imperiatrix’s unassuming outward appearance. However, to Braxiatel right now, it was a glaringly foul smell, broadcasting loudly to anyone nearby his ignoble activities inside Imperiatrix’s laboratory but moments ago. He had wanted to return immediately to Romana’s apartments and check in on her. Especially after Imperiatrix’s vague, veiled threat, but with the aid of his coding and the presence of his brother, who would let no harm come to her, Romana was safe enough within the walls of her home. This still seemed unsatisfactory to him, but would have to do for the moment. He could not see her as he was now… Smelling of another woman. 

No, he had to wash the literal stink of his unpredicted betrayal from his very soul, if that were even possible, before he could meet his fiancée’s trusting eyes again. They were not married yet, and were certainly not married at all in Romana’s distant, nightmarish future... He could take no chances letting this mishap ruin his engagement. Decided, Braxiatel turned in the opposite direction to his own apartment in the lesser nobles’ section of the Citadel to change. He would have to hurry though. He did not want to be missed by Romana and it would take him forever to get ready now. He could not stand looking at himself in the mirror right now, even to make the act of grooming and shaving that much swifter.

Imperiatrix sat on a luxuriously plush chair at an impressive looking console in her laboratory. With amused curiosity, she watched on one of her laboratory monitors as Braxiatel turned 180 degrees away from the direction of Romana’s apartments in favor of his own living quarters. She smiled knowingly.

“Oh, Irving. Such a pity to see the Icicle reduced to such a state of warmth. Who would have thought an ice maiden could succeed where a queen had failed? Well, I suppose it is only fair that Romana managed to outperform me in something impressive for once in her life.” She shrugged to herself, unconcerned. Lady Imperiatrix thought for a moment when a fun idea came to her. One which immediately needed to be acted upon! Imperiatrix pushed a button on her console.

“Clear my schedule for tomorrow evening and make sure dinner is fit for entertaining royal company. I am having my cousin and her fiancé over for dinner.”


	19. Downward Spiral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Braxiatel is a prisoner of his mind for a terrible crime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a week that I care not to ever repeat again. Sorry in advanced, but it affected my writing.

All but sizzling hot water cascaded over Braxiatel’s head as his palms rubbed hard up and down his face. It was no use. The phantom of the hands that had mockingly caressed him there almost a half hour ago would not relinquish their grip on him. No matter how hard he scrubbed, the uncomfortable tingling on his lips from hers still lingered as well. It did not bare thinking about how long it would be before that feeling subsided. Braxiatel sighed in frustration. What was he going to do? 

For years, he had only ever needed to be concerned in projecting the outcome of the future on the battlefield and, more recently, in the High Council Chamber. So long as he tirelessly built up the credibility of his family name again in these two aspects of his life and did not create too many waves, his father’s “misstep” would be overlooked. Everything had been going to plan. He retired from active military duty with high honors and in doing so had been restored his family’s position on the High Council. For why should the sins of the father be bestowed on such a dutiful servant of the crown after such selfless service? 

Lately however, it seemed that would not be enough. It was now prudent for him to expand his calculated future forecasts into his personal life and to do so quickly too. He did not have the apparent luxury anymore of just being a good, little, decorated ex-soldier and expecting his ever improving situation as a fully reinstated council member to outlive the reign of one ruler. And he certainly was not foolish enough to just wait and see where his new relationships, from his new position, with all the members of House Heartshaven would lead him.

Imperiatrix. Aptly named considering her intellectual superiority and almost certain destiny as the next queen of Gallifrey. However, Braxiatel had actually taken great interest in her at the Academy because they were very much the same in many ways. Top of their class, visionaries, clever, calculating and cool-headed in any situation... For the most part. Both of them unhesitating when an opportunity to seize an advantage presented itself. And, in the very end of his short tenure at the Academy, both of them had lost their only living parent on that terrible night.

“Hello, Imp. You seem far more pensive than normal. Is something the matter?” Braxiatel inquired of a loafing student on the lush grass in an Academy garden.  
“Yes, I am certain that you think yourself quite clever to come up with that nickname, Tutor Braxiatel.” The late teenager sighed, not bothering to even look at him. She seemed to find the insect she was examining in the grass far more interesting a subject to focus on. He did not seem offended from her lack of eye contact, evidently accustomed to it.

“I think the moniker suits you far better.” He replied sagely as he sat down next to her. Imperiatrix rolled her eyes at him. Braxiatel knew why. He only had about four years or so on her and was in no position to think he had the advantage of wisdom from that over her advanced intellect. Perhaps she was right. “I found your glitter smoke bomb.” Braxiatel stated flatly. Or mayhaps she was not completely right.

“Oh?” Imperiatrix hummed in disinterest.

“Yes, I even managed to disarm it before it went off. I did have quite a sweat there for a moment though. I imagine I would still be combing glitter out of my whiskers even after I could smell properly again.” Braxiatel hummed back with equal disinterest.

“That mustache looks ridiculous on a boy of your age. You’re not fooling any of those ageists in the faculty lounge.” Imperiatrix commented, not at all with the aim to change the subject. She would have to care about punishment in order to be motivated to do that.

“Hmm, perhaps…” Braxiatel mused, resisting the urge to correct her by remarking that it was actually a van dyke. He could already imagine her eyes rolling completely back into head this time from how little she cared to be informed of the distinction. Her censure would turn out to be needless anyway. Unbeknownst to him, he would soon be shaving it off when the preservation of his family reputation demanded he reenter the military. In matters of great consequence in his life, those old fossils’ ageism and their opinion of him would become irrelevant. Imperiatrix would once again, as always, interrupt such wandering musings of his mind. 

“At any rate, I will have to update my latest model for next time. You are the first staff member here to boast actually finding one of my little masterpieces and getting away with the only bit of sparkle on your person being your own sweat. I would not want you to feel unchallenged and I am already bored with my current prank project.” Imperiatrix wondered aloud more to herself than him. Oh, he could only imagine what pandemonium she planned on unleashing next for the residents of the Academy, but he had searched for her on other business.

“Well, then, I suppose you would be pleased to know that your melancholy may yet be cured shortly. As I come to bring word that your noble father intends to take you out of school for a month in order to accompany him on a diplomatic mission to **Skaro**.” Braxiatel smiled. Imperiatrix looked extremely pleased, but was hiding it quite well. He imagined if he had not had so much time to examine that face over the past couple of years, he would have missed it.

“Could be fun.” Was all she replied and it was all that he could do not to laugh aloud at how right he was about her opinion on the promise of political sparring and foreign travel.

“My honorable, Lady. This is the sort of business you were born to do. I promise, a mind as intelligent as yours will find the experience very stimulating.” Braxiatel smiled. 

The water began to get cold and it helped Braxiatel snap out of his flashback as he repeated his last regretful word to his old student. It was liberating to be back in the here and now, but not at all freeing. Every time this happened, it was as vivid and clear as if he was back there, years ago in the hallowed halls of the Academy. And every time he was an unwilling player in the torturous reenactment in the unforgiving light of his mind’s eye, he tried to force it to end differently. But it never did. At the end, each time, his encouraging words cursed the fortune of his lighthearted, playful student… To see her father murdered in front of her in that deadly crossfire with his own father.

Even as a cadet, Imperiatrix could still have had enough sway at court to make his life even more miserable after that night due his infamous family connections. He did not pull the trigger, but reassurances from a Lungbarrow were like a betrayal when personal tragedy also came from one of that clan. And yet, to his amazement, to his sincere gratitude, she did not seem to bare any resentment. She would allow him to be near her. He was even permitted to provide advice in her scientific endeavors, though he was certain, if she even listened to him for anything more than her amusement, she never took said advice.

This however was different than her other devilish, little prank projects. The ones that she would soon lose interest in favor of the next unlikely, but clever, experiment. He had always thought that her new, near borderline pitiless humor and her more focused, dark demeanor over the years had been the natural consequence of the trauma she endured. She was just working through, still had yet to cognitively process everything that had happened to her. She had, after all, refused counseling. But he had hoped she kept him near because she eventually wanted to open up to him about her pain. He waited, but it never seemed forthcoming. And when finally did she, it was not at all in the manner he had hoped. She never mentioned that night, only explained to him an idea. One evidently a long in the works… It was a way of creating a perimeter of space in which you could influence your enemy to resist their more violent nature while you negotiated with them. She intended to accomplish this aim with the aid of mind control technology. 

At first he was glad, as unlikely as this idea was, she was finally focusing her grief on something to prevent others from suffering as she had. He would take this roundabout way of reclaiming her loss, processing what happened to her and finally healing herself. In tandem with those thoughts though, and admittedly until very recently, the battle strategist in him was very intrigued. He was eager to be at the forefront of war preventing and fighting tech. When always dealing with and at odds with their enemy nation of Skaro, how could he not? As aforementioned, he did not hesitate to do what it takes to be at the advantage. Never did he regret his hubris more than now though.

Imperiatrix’s dedication to this project was beyond that of a person simply haunted by the pain of the past and the desire to never again relive it. And after his bit of cheating precognition, courtesy of his astonishing, time-slipping fiancée, he once again was in the business of predicting an outcome. That being that his hopes of Imperiatrix using this technology for good or, even better, her simply abandoning it as yet another endeavor that had lost its luster was quite foolhardy. Imperiatrix was about to complete a successful project and nothing would deviate her from the path she was on now. Worse, thanks to the arrogance of him and another him in his betrothed’s future past, Romana’s conscience and innocence would paradoxically forever be a costly casualty to the fruits of Imperiatrix’s labors. Even with Andred’s death prevented. The deed undone, the memory of what once was would remain in Romana’s mind unchanged. 

The deed was not yet undone though. The future this time around may very well still depend on what he did next. He had to act. He would not see Romana wracked with guilt over a crime she would not have committed without her cousin’s frightening influence again. So the big question was, in Romana’s original future, had he known, would he know or even anticipate that Imperiatrix would move to make a murderess out of her own little cousin? 

Imperiatrix was the eldest of the two cousins, equally cared for and revered by her childless, kingly uncle. As an adult, she was considered the ambitious, unruffled and clever favorite of the High Council compared to the equally brilliant, although far less gregarious Romana. Imperiatrix came from a kindly remembered, tragically lost father with no thirst for power. And she even was the mischievous, little darling child of the entire populace of the Capitol in her early youth. With all this in her favor, it seemed only natural that she would be the next, uncontested royal in line for the throne. Romana was **no threat**. Yet, Imperiatrix was capable of and thought it necessary, through all brilliant wit, to do this to Romana? To emotionally scar and thus politically cripple her cousin in a way not dissimilar to her own tragic past? 

It did not make sense, but it still was not much of a stretch of the imagination to presume what else Imperiatrix was capable of doing. Which brought him back to the point of what was he going to do about it? In more than a roundabout way, he was already implicated in all this. Someone could still be punished for being involved in a horrendous plot, even if it was never realized. So much for reclaiming his family honor by staying out of trouble and being a model nobleman! He began to truly think on how wrong he had been for always joking to Imperiatrix’s that her name was misspelled by the addition of six letters. She had not been the imp-etuous one in any way. He had! He had made himself a fool and a traitor thinking otherwise. He could never be Imperiatrix’s most trusted advisor when she ascended the throne because she clearly never thought him worth hearing. She had only been telling him as much for years! He had no influence on her, but she certainly had had on him. He would call himself a court jester, but even they had a king’s ear more so than him! No, she had named him his true title this very day. He was and had always been her **toy**.

Braxiatel got out of the shower, though felt he might not want to stray so far from the bathroom the way his stomach churned and his throat hitched. He had to get back to Romana, though Heaven only knew what he could say to her to wash his sins away when neither a shower nor his own dubious conscience could do so. A safe compromise was to stay in the room to examine him face in the mirror glass. His hair natural fell in away that was pleasing, but still he furiously combed it until not one strand was out of place. That completed, he finally he worked up the nerve to look on his features in more detail. 

To his relief, not a trace of Imperiatrix’s perfume or rouge remained on his face, but he did have a bit of stubble developing. Again that reminded him far too much of that blasted mustache line and that day! He stared at his five o’clock shadow. It had to go. And so he proceeded to give himself the closest shave he could manage without aid of a barber. Only then was he more satisfied with his appearance. His confidence was still down though and subsequently his trust in his own judgment on his looks. Briefly, he began to wonder if Romana would liked him clean shaven better or if she would care even to give him a second glance after what a liability he had made himself to her cause? 

He could not think on that for long. No, it was needless to go down that path. Romana obviously found his appearance more than acceptable or at least she was not a shallow woman when it came to a man’s handsomeness. Yes, he imagined that, had she been a vain woman, she would have otherwise found another way, with all her future knowledge, of saving her nation. She would have devised a plan that did not require her to throw in her lot with him all the way to the altar. Him, a man who was well over a decade and a half older than her, at least physically and linear progressively speaking. Him, a conniving, unworthy, old man… 

Oh, he was just thinking around in a circle worrying how her feelings towards him may change! But how could her sentiments not change once she ultimately learned, despite future knowledge of him, just how traitorously scheming he was behind the scenes in her past, present and future timelines? He was disgusted with himself. Even more so at how one memory associated with something as ridiculous as his own facial hair had led him on this downwards spiral of despair! So much for him thinking he had cognitive processing down to a science. His bloody hair did not even have anything to do with the part of that old conversation that caused him the most grief! 

In the midst of his anguish and despair, he was more than foolishly tempted, lured like a siren call to devise a casual way to ask… Ask Romana if he had ever started growing his facial hair again in their decades-long acquaintance of her forsaken future. She would not know it from such harmless inquiry, but it would tell him so much. Him someday being comfortable with a van dykes again… It would mean that he eventually managed to contain this horrible feeling inside him well enough to be of actual use to Romana. The more he thought about though, perhaps it would not tell him anything. Maybe he was simply forced to push his guilt down on the battlefield. In a collapsed society, he imagined one did not necessarily have the time to process pain. And as for the cursed beard reappearing, well that might just as well be him deciding an irrational reminder on his face were better than risking sepsis shaving it. Gods, maybe that was it… The reason why future him had never acted on his feelings for Romana. The reason why, as he lay dying in her arm, he had wasted precious moments professing feelings of his profound unworthiness of Romana rather than just telling her of his undying, devoted love for her with every, single, last breath remaining in him… It was because he, the coward, had never told her of his hand in the hellish downfall of her throne! 

That was too much for Braxiatel! He was struck with an overwhelming need to see Romana! He had to see her now! Whatever he was going to ask or tell her about their future or past together, he would not know until he saw her face. He could not stay in suspense of that for a minute longer! Mechanically, for his mind was so distracted, he went through the motions to make himself presentable for royalty again before heading back out towards Romana’s private apartments. With any luck, after his brother got his hands on Romana’s top-of-the-line laboratory, the structure of her residence would still be in one piece, and with minimum fire damage. He needed no further distractions this day.


End file.
